Finding Home
by VoodooQueen
Summary: Joining the Navy had been an escape. Being recruited into N.E.S.T. had been a surprise. It's funny how fate works. Jazz. Prowl. SSxOCxSS. Bayverse and elements of other continuities within. T for language but rating may change later.
1. Chapter 1

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 1**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! This is a story that has been kicking around my head for a while so I thought I'd go ahead and try to get it written down. FYI...this story tentatively takes place immediately following the very first movie and will have varied elements of other Transformers continuities scattered in there. All of our favorite bots are very much alive and well (for the most part), as it should be. It's also going to feature bots who are either not in the movies or who make an appearance in later movies so if you're a stickler for movie canon, I'm sorry. Ha! At any rate, this will probably end up revolving around Jazz and a certain pair of twins (ya'll know who I'm talking about). I don't want to give too much away but most likely will end up SSxOCxSS depending on how I feel as I write it. Rated T for language but that could change, again, depending on how I feel, lol. As always, please read and review if you're so inclined. I read everything you guys send me and I really do listen to your critiques and suggestions. Much love!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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Operations Specialist 2nd Class Amy Doe checked and rechecked the data she'd received to ensure absolute accuracy as she updated the strategic and tactical displays within her ship's Combat Information Center. OS2 Doe truly enjoyed working in the CIC. It was the nerve center of all ship operations and gave her a feeling of purpose that she'd scarcely, if ever, felt anywhere else. She was good at her job, one of the best, but she certainly wasn't one to brag. It was just a matter of hard work and determination and she'd had to work harder than most.

She'd enlisted in the United States Navy the very same day she'd graduated from high school. While others had headed off stage to celebratory fanfare, she'd gone straight to the closest bus stop that would route her to the nearest recruiting station. She'd seen no reason to wait around or waste any time. There weren't any loving parents or excited family members waiting in the audience to snap her photo and tell her how proud they were of her. There was no graduation party to go to. No recognition of her achievements and hard work. There was only her, alone in the world and nowhere to go after graduating school and aging out of a horribly abusive foster care system.

Things will get better, she'd told herself. It was a phrase that she'd often heard from social workers, school guidance counselors, and her court appointed guardian ad litem. Mostly it was meaningless babble meant to soothe her pain after yet another disappointing or hurtful experience. After joining the navy, however, things had actually gotten somewhat better. She had a job she truly excelled at. She'd never been very good at making friends but she liked her fellow crewman and they, too, seemed to like her...at least enough not to say nasty things to her face which was a huge improvement over her school years. The officers and higher ranking enlisted personnel above her in the chain of command were fond of her. At twenty years of age, she'd managed not only to make the rank of Second Class Petty Officer but had also earned her Surface and Air Warfare certifications. All things considered, she thought she'd turned out all right.

"Hey, Doe!"

She looked up from her terminal, her fingers still hovering over her keyboard. "Yes?"

The sailor hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "Chief says you need to head up to the CMC's office ASAP."

"The CMC?" A puzzled look flashed across her delicate features. Her green eyes blinked owlishly at her screen as she wondered what the Command Master Chief could possibly want with her. She nodded and securely locked her terminal. Tucking a stray piece of blond hair that had worked its way out of her bun behind her ear, she rose from her seat. "Tell Chief I'm heading up now."

As she expertly navigated the maze of p-ways and ladder wells on her way to the CMC's office, Amy Doe racked her brain trying to figure out the reason she'd been summoned. Being called before Command Master Chief Iverson was either a really good thing or a really bad thing. She couldn't recall engaging in any activities in either extreme. Sooner than she realized, she was standing before his office suite. Swallowing the lump of nervousness that had formed in her throat, she pulled opened the water tight door and stepped through, dogging it securely shut behind her, and approached the yeoman's desk.

"Excuse me," she interrupted the sailor sitting on the other side of the partition. He looked up from his computer screen and she could see the name 'Espinoza' embroidered on his name tag. "My Chief sent me down here. She said the CMC wanted to see me?"

"OS2 Doe?" he asked and smiled when she nodded. Swiveling in his chair, he pulled a thick manilla envelope out of a filing cabinet and passed it over the desk to her. "Here, this is for you. You can head on back. They're waiting for you."

"They?" She looked at the man questioningly but he just shrugged before turning back to the work he'd been doing. Muttering a thanks, she moved off in the direction he had indicated and found herself standing in front of a gray steel door with the CMC's name upon it, engraved in a brass plaque. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly, then gave three solid raps to announce her presence. Hearing the command to 'enter', she gave herself a quick once over, ensuring that her uniform was squared away properly before pushing her way inside.

OS2 Doe surveyed the room with slight apprehension. CMC Iverson, an older man with dark hair graying at the temples, rose from his seat behind his desk. Also rising from their seats were the ship's Commanding Officer, Captain Kenneth Davis and an unknown dark-skinned man dressed in an Air Force uniform. She momentarily froze, taking in the scene before her, before her military bearing managed to kick in. Her body moved to a position of attention, her hand flying up in a crisp salute in acknowledgement of her CO before her brain finally kicked back into gear.

"Sir," she acknowledged respectfully.

"At ease, Petty Officer Doe," Captain Davis returned her salute. "Please," he motioned to the only empty chair in the space. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir." She settled stiffly into the offered seat.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." It was CMC Iverson speaking. "This must seem a little strange."

OS2 Doe nodded nervously. In her experience, meetings like this never ended on a positive note. They always meant something had gone wrong, that her anchor to the world was being ripped out of the ground once again...a new foster home, a new school, a new counselor to tell her that things will get better. The old familiar desperation to hang on to what little she had in her life, to somehow fix whatever was broken and try to salvage what she could welled up from the depths of her being. Her wide eyes flitted between the three men. "If I've done something wrong..."

"Relax," the man in the Air Force Uniform shot her a friendly smile. "You haven't done anything wrong. In fact, you're doing everything very right. That's why I'm here."

Doe looked around the room in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Petty Officer Doe," Captain Davis started, "This gentleman is Chief Master Sergeant Robert Epps. Are you at all familiar with N.E.S.T.?"

OS2 Doe shook her head, "Not especially, Sir, no."

"We're sort of a super-classified special response team," CMSgt Epps added helpfully.

"Oh," Doe nodded, unsure of what any of this had to do with her. "I see."

"How long have you been on my ship, OS2?"

Her head snapped back over to look at her CO. "About two years, Sir."

"Two years," the man looked thoughtful for a moment. "In that time you've managed to climb quickly though the enlisted ranks, you've gotten your warfare certifications, and managed to keep an exemplary service record. You also received excellent marks in A School and all of your subsequent evaluations have been perfect 4.0s with recommendations of 'Early Promote'. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Sir," she muttered awkwardly. She was unused to being praised or complimented. It just wasn't something she experienced very often, if ever. "I try."

"I'd say you more than try." CMC Iverson cracked open a folder than lay in front of him and began to skim through and read. "Petty Officer Doe is an outstanding sailor. Always willing to put in extra time and effort to ensure combat and tactical readiness. She holds true to the navy core values of honor, courage, and commitment. An asset to the team." He turned the page and continued, "OS2 Doe approaches new and challenging situations with an open mind and with an eagerness and willingness to adapt and learn new things." He closed the folder. "Those are just some of the things your shipmates and supervisors have had to say about you."

"That last one is my favorite," CMSgt Epps remarked with a cheeky grin.

"That's...very kind of them to say," Doe felt her face burn with embarrassment. "But I still don't understand why I'm here."

Epps looked to the other two men in the room for permission to proceed. Getting a nod from both, he began to speak. "To be perfectly honest with you, Petty Officer Doe, I've been given the illustrious task of helping to recruit personnel for N.E.S.T.'s new Operational Headquarters. The work is highly classified and the guy in charge of the CIC over there has extremely high standards and a very particular set of qualifications and skills that he's looking for. We've been pouring over submitted personnel files and peer recommendations when your's happened to come across our desks."

"Mine?" Confusion clouded her face. "How?"

Epps merely shrugged. "Someone of pretty substantial standing must have thought you were up to the task and put your name out there. I'd definitely take it as a compliment in the long run if I were you. At any rate," he continued, "We were impressed enough by what we saw for me to fly all the way out here to the middle of the ocean to offer you the position. Captain Davis and CMC Iverson agree that you'd be a good fit."

"Me?" She blinked, still not quite understanding what was happening but feeling a cold, hard lump of rejection begin to fester in her gut she'd felt all too often as a child.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Petty Officer Doe," CMC Iverson remarked kindly. "You should think of it as a promotion of sorts."

"A promotion," She looked frantically between the men. "Wait, does that mean..."

"Your transfer is effective immediately," Captain Davis chimed in. "You'll be accompanying CMSgt Epps back to N.E.S.T. when he leaves tomorrow morning. Personnel has already pushed through all of your paperwork so you're all squared away on that front." He nodded toward the envelope she clutched in her hands. "Everything you'll need is in there. Consider yourself relieved of duty and take the rest of this evening to gather your personal items."

"We're scheduled to be on the first plane out in the morning at 0600 hours," Epps added. "I'd like you to meet me up on deck fifteen minutes prior. We'll discuss some of the details on the way."

"Any questions?"

Petty Officer Doe's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. It was completely unprofessional but she couldn't help it. Inside her head, her brain screamed. Yes! Yes, she had questions! Why? Why didn't they want her any more? Why were they so eager to ship her off to somewhere else before her EAOS was even halfway passed? Had she not done enough, worked hard enough? Sure, they'd said nice things about her but that was how these scenarios often went. It isn't you...it's us. It's not a good fit. The timing isn't right. The conditions have changed. Things will get better...

"OS2?"

"Uh," she snapped out of her dark thoughts. "N-no, Sir. No questions."

"Very well," Captain Davis stood, prompting the woman to do the same. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir." She saluted and waited for it to be returned before quickly exiting the room and closing the door behind her, shutting the three men inside to continue their conversation. She stood there, trembling, as her mind raced to comprehend what had just happened. A cold numbness settled over her body. She wasn't going to cry. No, she was not. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She refused to cry. That never accomplished anything, at least, nothing good anyway.

"How'd it go?" The yeoman, Espinoza, had looked up from his computer screen and was now eyeing her curiously.

"It-it went well." She forced a smile and made her way woodenly to the water tight door and wrenched up the handle. All she wanted to do was escape back to the familiarity of the female crew berthing, at least until she was forced to leave in the morning. She had to pack her sea bag, she reminded herself. She should have been used to packing up all her worldly belongings on short notice by now but it still stung to think about it. She wasn't going to cry. Things will get better. She swallowed the lump that has lodged itself in her throat. She grit out a quick, "thank you" before bolting through the door, leaving the yeoman to stare after her with a rather confused expression. She hadn't bothered to dog down the door.

 **End of Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 2**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I wanted to go ahead and post up my next chapter of this story and thank those who took the time to read and add it to their alerts and favorites. You are much appreciated. Currently, I'm working on the next chapter of 'The Favor' and trying to get back in to my 'Thief' story while doing some editing on the next part of 'Shattered'...and starting this new one. Ugh! Busy, busy! I have too much going on in my imagination so please bear with me. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers just my own original characters and plot.**

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0500 hours came sooner than Amy Doe had expected. Climbing out of her rack for what would be the last time she quickly slipped into the uniform she'd pressed the night before and twisted her blond hair up into its standard bun. Stuffing her pajamas into her sea bag with the rest of her belongings, she fished out a towel, soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste and made her way to the female head to perform her morning ritual. She brushed her teeth quickly and followed that up by washing her face. After patting her face dry she observed her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye.

She kept her light, straight blond hair just below shoulder length which made it much easier to twist it up onto the back of her head and pin it every morning. Green eyes, not nearly as bright as they should have been stared back at her from within a pale face. A light smattering of freckles, the only bit of color she had, were dusted across the bridge of her straight nose and high cheek bones. Her lips were full but rarely, if ever, smiled to their full potential. Others may have viewed her as pretty if she didn't seem to have a constant cloud of melancholy swirling about over her head at any give the time. For the most part, she wasn't really too concerned with her appearance outside of the professional. She'd learned long ago that sometimes it was best just to blend in to the background and not draw too much attention.

She shook her head to clear it and took a quick glance at her watch. It was 0530. She had fifteen minutes to grab her things and meet CMSgt Epps on deck. One thing she didn't like was being late. Giving herself one last look to make sure she was squared away, she quickly gathered up her things and went back into the berthing to grab her sea bag.

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She never really had much of a reason to venture up onto the flight deck but she'd always found the highly coordinated actions of the flight deck personnel and squadron flight crews fascinating to watch. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of hot metal and plane exhaust while the roar of jet engines made her ears ring. She was able to get the attention of a plane handler who was able to direct her to where CMSgt Epps waited for her near the island.

"Morning," the man shouted over the drone of jet noise. "You're early! I like that!"

"Good morning, sir!" She shouted back.

"Just call me Epps," he replied. "None of that sir BS. I work for a living."

Doe nodded.

"That's our ride." Epps pointed toward a cargo plane that had rolled to a stop in front of catapult number three. "Come on. Let's get out of here. All this water is making me nauseous."

Doe couldn't help but smile a bit as they were both herded toward the plane that would take them to their destination. It wasn't until after both their persons and gear had been properly secured and they'd been in the air for about thirty minutes that Epps decided to get down to business.

He leaned forward toward the woman as far as his safety harness would allow and still had to talk loudly to be heard over the sound of the planes props. "You've never heard of N.E.S.T.?"

Doe shrugged, "Not really. The only N.E.S.T. I'm familiar with is the Nuclear Emergency Support Team but I'm guessing that isn't what we're talking about, right?"

"You got that right," Epps nodded. "N.E.S.T stands for Non-Biological Extraterrestrial Species Treaty."

Doe raised a brow, "Extraterrestrial, as in..."

"Yep," Epps agreed with her train of thought. "Aliens. Giant, robotic aliens from outer space."

"Okay," Doe shook her head in disbelief. "Is this some kind of hazing thing? Try to make an idiot out of the new guy? You know, like sending someone down to the tool room to ask for a bucket of steam or something like that?"

Epps laughed, "I promise you I am being 100% serious right now. I'm sure you saw on the news what went down in Mission City, right?"

"Yeah," Doe nodded. "It was horrible. They're saying it was the worst terrorist attack ever on US soil."

"Giant, alien robot terrorists." Epps' face contorted into a mask of anger. "It was a spillover from a war that's been going on for God only knows how long. There's two sides to this thing: the Autobots and the Decepticons. The Decepticons are basically hellbent on the eradication and enslavement of humanity so they can have our planet because they destroyed their's. The Autobots are the good guys trying to stop them. We are trying to help the good guys. That's what N.E.S.T. is all about."

She looked at him doubtfully. She'd been made a fool of too many times in her life to take anyone's claims at face value. That was especially true when said claims were as outlandish as these were. "So we're helping to fight a war between two groups of giant, alien robots."

"Trust me, I know it sounds crazy," Epps admitted. "I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. You'll get a full briefing from Captain Lennox and the Big Guy when we get there. I just want you to be prepared. It's a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Doe muttered. "Right."

The rest of the flight had continued in relative quiet. The drone of the plane's engines had eventually succeeding in lulling the CMSgt to sleep. Doe ignored the man's occasional snore and found herself dozing off and on, as well. During her moments of lucidity, her mind would wander back to the talk of aliens. She'd seen rumors on the Internet as well as seen the grainy, shaking cell phone footage purported to show giant robots battling it out in the streets. She had chalked it up to Internet film makers trying to cash in on mass hysteria to make a quick buck. The whole thing was ridiculous, really, she decided and closed her eyes. The next time she opened them it was to the bone-jarring feeling of the plane they were in touching down on the tarmac.

"Home sweet home," Epps remarked causing the woman to turn her head in his direction. "Have a good sleep?"

"Uh, yeah. Thanks for asking." She maneuvered in her seat slightly in order to see out the small window that was closest to where she sat as the plane taxied away from the landing strip. "What time is it? Where are we?"

"Its 1730 hours. Dinner time." Epps had already unbuckled his harness and was gathering his belongings before the plane had even come to a stop. "And this is Diego Garcia, it's an island in-"

"It's in the central Indian Ocean. It's part of the Chagos Archipelago." She gave him a tight smile in acknowledgment as the plane finally came to a stop and she released herself from her seat and began getting her own gear together. "I'm familiar with the location. Some of my duties involved map work."

"Ah," Epps nodded as he swung his bag up onto his shoulder. "That makes sense. If you're floating around in the ocean I guess it pays to know where all the land is." The door of the plane rolled open and Epps gestured for the woman to follow as he made his exit. "Let's get this show on the road."

OS2 Doe followed the man as he made his way across the tarmac toward some buildings off to the side. She was a bit embarrassed and would never admit it out loud, but her eyes swept over her surroundings looking for any sign of giant robots or evidence that they had been stomping around the place. Of course, she didn't see any. She did see plenty of other military personnel and hardware, though. She rolled her eyes at her own idiocy and focused on Epps' running commentary.

"This side of the base is human military use for the most part. Most of the Autobots keep to the other side of the island the majority of the time. I think it's because there's less stuff for them to accidentally step on over there. That," He pointed to a largest building at the end of a row of six, "Is the barracks where you'll be staying. I'll help you find your room so you can get settled. Over there," he pointed to a low-slung building on the opposite end of the row, "Is the chow hall. Once you're settled go grab something to eat. Breakfast is 0500-0800, lunch is from 1100-1400, and dinner runs 1700-2000..."

As Epps continued to speak of places of interest and what the very near future had in store, Doe's attention was drawn away by the approach of a sleek, silver Lamborghini Aventador that rolled slowly up next to her from seemingly out of nowhere. The car moved so quietly that she had to strain her ears to hear the purr of the engine over the CMSgt's ongoing dialogue. Epps, for his part, didn't seem to notice the car at all and continued chattering away. Doe noted that the car's windows were tinted so darkly that there was no way she could see inside to whoever was behind the wheel. The way it paced her was a bit eerie, not counting the fact that the car seemed completely out of place among all of the drab, olive green and sand brown military vehicles that were scattered about. She didn't get to dwell on it too long because the car suddenly shot forward, it's passenger door opened quickly, upward and outward, smacking into Epps' back causing him to stumble and drop his bags before snapping closed again just as quickly.

Regaining his footing, Epps whirled around. His eyes landed on the now idling Lamborghini, which seemed to be trembling slightly on its tires, and narrowed. "What the hell, man?! What was that for?" The car, of course, didn't answer but that didn't stop Epps. "Oh yeah, go ahead and laugh it up, Sideswipe. You think you're so funny...You see me showing the new girl around and come over and try to knock me on my ass. Great way to make an impression..."

Doe kept one eye on the strange one-sided conversation while kneeling down to try to gather some of the items that had fallen from one of Epps' bags when he'd dropped them. One particular item had rolled behind the car's rear passenger side tire. As she bent to pick it up, she reached out to place her hand on the car's rear fender for balance and immediately wished she hadn't. As soon as her flesh made contact with the metal she felt as if she'd grabbed onto to a live wire. The shock was sudden and over with before she'd even realized what had happened but it was still powerful enough to knock her off her feet and tear a scream from her throat. A warm, tingling sensation persisted, however, and continued to creep up her fingers, down the length of her arm and settle in her chest. Her vision swam and her hands immediately flew up to grasp the area above her erratically beating heart as fears that she might actually be having a heart attack gripped her.

"What the hell did you do?!" Epps was outright yelling at the car now as he scrambled to the woman's side. "Doe! You alright?"

She blinked rapidly as the world came back into focus. Her heart began to calm, slowing from its staccato rhythm, and the strange feeling lodged in her chest started to ease ever so slightly. Her hands released their death grip on her chest and she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so."

No sooner had the confirmation of her wellbeing left her lips, the Lamborghini's engine gave an almost deafening roar and its tires squealed as it was thrust suddenly into reverse. Doe watched as it whipped itself around in the parking area before screeching out of the lot leaving both she and Epps to stare off after it in startled confusion. Epps was muttering something under his breath about an idiot being in for it when someone named Hide heard about what happened.

After a moment, Epps coughed and waved some of the dust that had been kicked up out of his face before rising from the ground and helping Doe back up to her feet. He eyed the woman with concern. She was paler than she normally was and seemed a bit shaken. "Are you sure you're alright? I can have someone run us over to medical and they can check you out."

"No, no..." Doe shook her head. "I'm fine, really. It was...it just...it shocked me?"

"Are you asking me?" Epps asked with a raised brow. "Because I'm not sure what the hell just happened."

"I'm just...no." She shook her head again. "I'm fine. Really."

"Positive?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm good." She dusted off the back of her pants and tried to straighten her uniform, attempting to push the strange incident out of her mind. "You were saying something about tomorrow morning's briefing?"

"Yeah, right." Epps gave the woman one final once over before picking up where they'd been interrupted and continuing the trek to the barracks. "The briefing will be in the main hangar tomorrow morning at 0600. Make sure you get up early enough to grab some breakfast in the chow hall because its going to be a long day..."

 **End Of Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 3**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend so far. I thought I'd post a quick update this morning. I'd like to take a second to thank all of you who have taken the time to read and add this story to your alerts and favorites. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. Extra special thanks to Edge05 for leaving me a review!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers just my own original characters and plot.**

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Doe was awake the next morning before her alarm even sounded despite the fact that she was exhausted all the way down to the depth of her being. She glanced at the clock on the small table beside her bed for what was probably the hundredth time. It was only 0445 hours, still fifteen minutes before she'd actually planned to get up. Not seeing any reason to continue lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, she hauled herself out of her bed and began to get ready for the day ahead. Her original intention had been to go to sleep early so she could get up right as the chow hall opened and be dressed, fed, and waiting for the base shuttle to take her to the main hangar by no later than 0540. It hadn't worked out exactly according to her plan.

After Epps had finally gotten her to her room after she'd assured him for the millionth time that she was fine, she'd taken some time to unpack her sea bag and get herself and her new space somewhat organized. Having lived onboard the ship for the last two years, the longest she'd ever been in one place, she really wasn't used to having her own space. She did her best to try to make the small, unfamiliar room feel as if it were her own but that had always been a difficult chore as much as she was shuffled place to place. All the while she tried not to think about the strange, warm tingling feeling still fizzling about behind her breast bone. The sensation didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt...incomplete. That was really the only word she could think of that did the feeling justice. It was unsettling to say the least. For all she knew it could have been a normal reaction to receiving the kind of jolt she'd had and so she tried not to dwell on it.

She'd eventually taken herself down to the chow hall and had eaten some lasagna and garlic toast which, honestly, hadn't tasted all that bad. She had been pleasantly surprised. There were also a few other newbies there like herself, all looking as lost and confused as she did, which put her mind at ease somewhat. She'd even met a fellow sailor and had to admit it was nice to see another speck of blue amongst the sea of green uniforms.

His name was Rashad Monroe, a Third Class Electronic Warfare Technician who'd been whisked away from his command in much the same way she had been. He was staying in the same barracks she was, a floor below, and, after Monroe declared that shipmates needed to stick together against the horde of soldiers and marines that made up the majority of the N.E.S.T. ranks, they'd agreed to meet each other in front of the building the next morning for breakfast and to try to locate the shuttle that was supposed to take them to the other side of the base for the briefing. They'd ended up sitting and talking to one another about the strangeness of the whole situation until the chow hall closed.

Upon returning to her room, she had gathered her personal care products and immediately set out to find the showers. She'd showered quickly, changed into her pajamas, and made her way back to her assigned room without even bothering to dry her hair. Peeling back the standard-issue covers, she'd climbed into bed fully expecting sleep to claim her quickly given the whirlwind of a day she'd had. Though she'd dozed off relatively fast, her sleep was plagued by the strangest dream she could ever recall having.

In her dream, she'd found herself standing on the edge of seemingly unending dark expanse. Something enormously huge moved in the blackness just beyond her field of vision. She couldn't see it no matter how hard she tried but she could certainly hear it as it rumbled continuously in some strange language she couldn't understand in a deep bass of a voice that she could feel down to her bones. She got the distinct impression that it was trying to tell her something important that she just couldn't make heads or tails of at the moment. It didn't seem too concerned about her lack of understanding, though, as it continued to talk regardless.

Looking deep into the darkness, trying to find the source of the nonsensical babbling, her eyes had instead found a small, bright pinpoint of light far, far on the other side of the nothingness that surrounded her. She felt herself compelled to move toward it and so she did. She wasn't sure what the light was or where it was coming from but she somehow knew it was the reason she was in this place and that she needed to reach it. The voice followed, seemingly rejoicing in her decision to seek out the light if it's tone was anything to go on. It didn't seem to matter how far or how fast she moved forward, though, as the light never seemed to get any closer. She was frustrated in her dream and had woke feeling as if she really had been chasing after something elusive all night.

As she continued to dress herself, she had to admit that at least the dream, strange at it was, had been better than the nightmares she was used to having. She pulled t-shirt over her head, tucking it into her pants, and took a moment to run the tips of her fingers over the soft flesh of her inner arms feeling the intermittently scarred flesh that was usually hidden beneath the long sleeves of her outer shirt. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before pulling on the rest of her uniform. Yes, she decided, the dream had been infinitely better than her nightmares and, she reminded herself for the millionth time, she'd finally escaped the horrifying cycle she'd been forced to grow up in.

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"OS2's in the house!"

"Hey, Monroe." Doe chuckled at her fellow sailor's antics as she exited the building to meet him. "How was your night?"

"Better than your's apparently," the man grinned. "Pardon my French, Doe, but you look like shit."

"Well thank you for that," Doe snorted. "I appreciate your honesty, EW3. I truly do."

"Anytime," he tipped his hat at her as they began making their to the chow hall. "I'm starving. I hope they have omelettes."

"That does sound really good. Or maybe some pancakes..." Doe's words trailed off as she caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye. Looking across the parking area she saw the same car from the previous evening idling in the early morning light still looking just as out of place as ever. This time, however, it seemed to have some company. Next to it sat a glossy, bright yellow Lamborghini Aventador Superveloce, a bit flashier than its silver counterpart and for some reason much more disturbing.

Doe felt goosebumps break out all over her body and the strange warmth in her chest resumed its bizarre tingling. Before she could stop herself, she had actually taken a couple steps in the cars' direction. As in her dream, she felt compelled to close the distance between herself and what she perceived to be her objective. When her brain caught up to what was happening her entire body seized up. She shook her head to clear it. She felt...wrong, off kilter. Something was missing and if she could just figure out what it was and how to get it the rest would be able to sort itself out. At this strange thought, she concluded that she probably should have taken CMSgt Epps up on his offer to see a doctor. This wasn't normal.

The feeling that she was being carefully watched and scrutinized washed over her suddenly. She felt almost naked, sensing eyes boring into her, judging her. She was all too familiar with the feeling. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. The prickling heat within her chest seemed to expand and contract with each pump of her rapidly beating heart. Distinctly uncomfortable, she raised a hand and pressed it firmly against her breast in an attempt to reign in the unsettling feeling. No sooner had she done so, the yellow Lamborghini peeled angrily out of the parking area leaving hot, black tire marks in it's wake. A couple seconds later, the silver one followed at a much slower and subdued pace. The feeling of being watched left with them. Doe wasn't sure if she was more frightened or relieved.

"Holy shit, man!" Monroe slapped her on the back and pointed in the direction the cars had gone. "Did you see those cars? Fucking Lamborghinis! Two of them!"

"Y-yeah. I-I saw them," Doe stuttered nervously.

Monroe whistled in appreciation. "All I want to know is, how much are they paying these assholes and when do we get our cut of the action? You know what I'm saying? I mean, damn! Can I get a Lamborghini up in here? That shit is tight!"

"Yeah," Doe muttered, feeling oddly bereft. "They're nice."

"Nice?" Monroe looked at her incredulously. " A Buick is nice. Those were Lam-Bor-Fucking-Ghinis! Come on OS2," he grabbed her by the elbow and resumed walking, dragging her along with him toward the chow hall. "Let's grab some breakfast and I'll do my best to educate you on the difference between 'that's a nice car' and 'DAMN, that's a nice car' before we have to meet the shuttle. I can see I've got my work cut out for me but I'll do my best. Jesus..."

Feeling some of the tension leave her body, Doe chuckled in amusement and followed along.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Will!" Epps greeted his friend and colleague with a smile and a slap on the back. Looking up he grinned, "Optimus, Ironhide...You guys made it back just in time. How was Alaska?"

"I dislike snow," Ironhide growled.

"You and me both, buddy," Epps commiserated. "Monique managed to talk me into taking her and the kids skiing for vacation one year. I swore never again."

"I remember that," Captain William Lennox laughed. "Didn't you end up having to spend the whole trip in the lodge because you twisted your ankle on the beginners' slope?"

"Which wouldn't have happened if there hadn't been so much damn snow on the ground," Epps defended. "That shit is slick. Did you have time to stop in and see Sarah and Annabelle?"

"I did," Will grinned. "Sarah is holding down the fort like a champ and Annie is growing like a weed. She's pulling herself up on the coffee table and trying to walk already. It's unbelievable."

"Yes," Ironhide agreed, "Your sparkling has made great improvements in her mobility since our last contact. Perhaps Epps would also be interested to know that she's learned her first word."

"You know what, Ironhide," Will crossed his arms across his chest and glared up at the mech. "Fuck you, dude."

The Captain's words sent the big, black, lumbering mech into a fit of booming laughter.

"What," Epps asked curiously, his eyes darting between the man and the mech. "What'd she say?"

"You know how with most kids their first word is momma or dadda or something like that? Not my kid, no..." Will threw his hands up. "The first word to come out of her mouth is 'Hide'."

Epps burst into laughter, "That's cold, man!"

"Aw, slag," Ironhide chuckled and wiped a stray drop of cleansing fluid that had leaked from his optic. "Annabelle is an intelligent sparkling. You should be proud."

"Yeah," Will rolled his eyes. "Glad you think so, buddy. Thanks."

An amused chuckle sounded from Prime who had been quietly watching the trio's antics. "Did all the new personnel manage to arrive safely?"

"Yes, Sir," Epps replied, refocusing his attention. "All present and accounted for. Oh, and before I forget, I should probably let you guys know that Sideswipe shocked the hell out of the new Operations Specialist last night."

"What?" Will asked, "How do you mean?"

"I mean, he rolled up on us and physically shocked the living daylights out of her." Epps shrugged, "I'm just saying that you may want to kindly remind him that electrocuting humans can have unintended side effects, you know...like death."

"Please Prime," Ironhide spoke up, optics glittering in anticipation. "Let me 'talk' to him. I've just been waiting for a reason to knock those two glitches' heads together since they got here."

"Ironhide," Optimus warned with a shake of his head before turning his attention back to Epps. "Is the woman unharmed?"

"Yeah," Epps nodded. "She was fine when I left her. She refused any medical attention, though. Said she didn't think it was necessary. I think it scared her more than anything."

"I see," Optimus emitted a long-suffering sigh. "I'll have a word with him. Again."

Ironhide let out a vent of disappointment.

"Alright, gentlemen," Will checked his watch. "The new recruits will be arriving within the next fifteen minutes or so, so we should probably start rounding everybody up for the briefing."

"Bee is still over at Sam's and," Epps offered, "I think Ratchet and Jazz are still in the med bay so they may not be able to make it. Everyone else should be standing by."

Concerned, Will asked, "Everything alright with Jazz?"

"Yeah," Epps nodded. "Ratchet says he's thrown something out of alignment again. Nothing major. I feel sorry for Jazz, though. The doc was pissed."

Ironhide snorted, "If that slagger doesn't start following Ratchet's protocol he's going to find his aft welded down to a medical berth until he's fit for full duty."

"Indeed," Prime agreed. "Ratchet does not take kindly to having his orders disregarded. I'll speak with Jazz, as well. We need him at 100%. Right now, however, we have a briefing to carry out."

"You heard the man," Lennox grinned. "Let's get this party started."

 **End of Chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 4**

 **by Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're having a lovely day. I'm having a pretty slow weekend so I thought I'd hammer out another chapter. I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and add this story to their alerts and favorites. Extra special thanks to Mywinx14, icebreakercoco, Edges05, adelphe24, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast for taking time to review. To answer your question, Mywinx14, I'm basing Side's looks off of Bayverse. I like the idea of one of the twins being silver and the other being "gold". This story will have some elements from other continuities, like G1, as it progresses. I hope that clears up any confusion :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"What did you do?" Anger radiated off of Sunstreaker's bright armor in waves as he paced the small berth room he and his brother shared. His fists were clenched at his sides so hard he could feel his finger joints creak under the strain. "What in the Pit did you do, Sideswipe?"

"I'm not really sure, to be honest." The silver twin sat upon his berth looking thoughtful and rubbing a hand over his chest plates in contemplation. "It just sort of happened."

"This does not just sort of happen, you glitch!" Sunstreaker yelled at his brother. He was livid and the only thing stopping him from putting his fist through Sideswipe's face was the fact that the mech was literally his other half and the only other being in the universe besides himself that he could honestly claim that he loved if anyone were to actually ask. "Primus, do you have any idea what this means, you dumb aft?"

"Uh," Sideswipe shrugged, "That we're going to have to request better accommodations? This room is kind of tight as it is with just the two-"

Enraged, Sunstreaker whirled on the mech. His frame trembled with barely restrained violence. "Better accommodations?! Do you think this is funny?"

"Funny?" Sideswipe chuckled, completely ignoring the fact that his twin looked ready to tear him limb from limb. "No, not especially, but you have to admit, it's a little...different." He pressed his hand over his spark chamber and looked at his brother seriously. "I don't get why you're so pissed off. I know you can feel it through our bond. This is a little more serious than just simple chemistry. I thought you'd be more, I don't know...excited."

"Excited?" Sunstreaker snarled at his brother in disbelief. "How glitched are you that you could possibly think that I would happy about this?!"

"Well," Sideswipe started, "I mean, we used to talk about this kind of thing all the time before the war. We always said were going to save up some credits and get out of the gladiator pits. We'd get as far away from Kaon as we could. We were going to find a place of our own. You were going to focus on your art and once we were settled someplace we'd start thinking seriously about maybe finding-"

"No!" Sunstreaker bellowed, cutting the other mech off. "This is NOTHING like what we discussed! Nothing! Do you hear me? Take a look around you! I never wanted to be stuck on a filthy planet full of disgusting, squishy organics! I certainly never wanted my brother to go out and start trying to fraternize with them! I don't know what you've done to yourself, Sides, but I want no part of it! Do you understand me?! I want nothing to do with it!"

"We're twins, Sunny." Sideswipe sighed, "You know as well as I do that it doesn't work that wa-"

"Stop talking!" Sunstreaker seethed, "You're going to keep this slag to yourself, got it?! I don't want to know anything about it. Do you understand?!"

"But, Sunny-"

"Hey!" Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. "Open up! What's going on in there?"

"This conversation is done," Sunstreaker hissed at his brother as he stalked over and wrenched open the door. Still angry, he snapped at the mech on the other side of the threshold, "What do you want?"

Prowl, Prime's Second in Command, was unaffected by the mech's aggressive stance. His expression remained impassive, door wings held high, as his sharp optics swept over the berth room taking in its condition and occupants with intense scrutiny. "Is there a problem here?"

"No," Sunstreaker grit out, irritated at the mech's presence. "No problem."

"Good." Prowl eyed the other mech for a moment longer before continuing on his reason for being there in the first place. "Both of you, get your afts down to the hangar. We're getting ready to brief the new troops."

"I'm on my way," Sideswipe jumped up from his berth eagerly upon hearing that the newbies were being brought over and sidled his way out of the room passed his brother and headed off in the direction of the hangar, "Thanks, Prowl!"

Sunstreaker watched his brother go with a look of disgust plastered on his face plates. He shouldered his way roughly passed the SIC, slamming the berth room door behind himself, and shot the mech a death glare. "Yeah, thanks a lot, Prowl."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"This place is huge," EW3 Monroe whispered. "Do you think they really keep giant robots here?"

"I don't know," OS2 Doe whispered quietly back as they followed the small herd of new N.E.S.T. recruits into a cavernous plane hangar that had been outfitted to look more like Mission Control at NASA than a place to park aircraft. "If they were going to keep them, though, this would be the place to do it. You could fit an entire carrier in here easy."

"Hey, look over there." Monroe whispered excitedly as he pointed to an area in the back of the hangar where an assortment of really expensive-looking vehicles sat parked. "I'm telling you, these guys are making serious bank."

"Yeah," Doe nodded. She noted that the group was moving closer to where the cars were parked and she took a moment to really look them over. At the front of the group was a giant blue semi with red flames painted on it, next to it sat a Dodge Charger Pursuit police car, followed by a black GMC Topkick, and a red Ferrari 458 Italia. At the end of the row of vehicles, closest to where she and Monroe came to rest, and much to her discomfort, sat the two Lamborghinis, one silver and the other yellow. A cold shiver worked its way through her body even as the heat in her chest bloomed.

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman. If I could please have your attention..."

Doe sighed in relief for the distraction and diverted her attention over to the Army Captain that had climbed up onto a catwalk running the length of the hangar in order to address the crowd.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome each and every one of you to N.E.S.T.. My name is Captain William Lennox. I'm hoping this morning that I'll be able to clear up some of the rumors I'm sure you've all heard floating around base and also break the proverbial ice, so to speak..."

Doe tried to listen to the Captain as he outlined the core values of N.E.S.T., the team's mission, and his expectations for its members. As she stood there, however, the intense feeling of being watched returned with a vengeance. It very nearly made her skin crawl and she fidgeted uneasily, unconsciously moving closer to Monroe and bumping into his side. The man glanced down at her curiously, questioning her with a look, but she shook her head, indicating that he should be listening to what Captain Lennox was saying instead. Once he'd refocused on the briefing, Doe allowed her eyes to wander over the vehicles assembled in the hangar, specifically, the two Lamborghinis.

Doe felt the warmth in her chest begin again the peculiar tingle she felt for the first time when she'd touched the silver one. Absently, she pressed a hand above her heart and wondered at the strange reaction as she let her gaze drift over the car's exterior. She supposed Monroe was right, it was a very nice car but quite possibly a safety hazard judging from her experience the previous evening. An electrical problem, perhaps? She let her eyes wander over to the yellow one. She wondered if she touched it would she get the same kind of zap. Her fingers twitched at the thought and she had a sudden urge just to march over and slap her palms down on its hood to see what would happen. She quickly squashed the notion. That particular car frightened her, quite honestly, and she really didn't want to be any closer to it than absolutely necessary.

With some difficulty, she managed to rip her eyes away from the two vehicles and refocused on Captain Lennox. She grimaced upon realizing that the man was wrapping up his speech and that she had likely missed information of some importance. Luckily, Monroe looked like he'd been paying attention. She'd have to question him about what all was said later. As it was, she barely managed to catch the Captain's closing remarks.

"Again, we're extremely pleased to welcome you all as members of our N. . family. Right now, I'd like to turn it over to my colleague in command of the other half of our team here who has a few words for you of his own. Optimus?"

On cue, the semi that had been quietly sitting off to the side began to literally unfold before the crowd's eyes. The sounds of shifting metal and the whine of hydraulics filled the hangar. Awestruck, the assembled group of new recruits found soon themselves staring up into the face of a metal giant that stood where the semi had once been parked. The silence was almost deafening in its intensity as the huge man/machine surveyed the group appraisingly with a pair of glowing blue eyes.

Seemingly finding whatever it was he'd been looking for, he turned to the line of vehicles and commanded in a smooth baritone, "Autobots, transform."

The group's silence turned into gasps and exclamations of surprise as, one by one, the other vehicles began to reconfigure themselves into similar metal humanoid shapes, though none as enormous or as awe inspiring as the semi had been. Doe watched the events with an ever increasing level of apprehension as each subsequent vehicle revealed its true form. Sooner than she would have liked, it was the Lamborginis' turn to shock and awe the crowd and she found herself wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

The two transformed in tandem revealing, not identical, but a very similar build and design. Doe thought she was going to faint when the silver one immediately locked eyes with her upon completing its transformation. Its metallic features hitched up into what she could only assume was a grin as it lifted its hand and actually waved at her. This action had earned it a non-too-gentle cuff to the back of the head by the yellow one. The sharp clang of metal hitting metal startled Doe, as well as a few of the other recruits who'd been watching, completely transfixed, but wasn't nearly as frightening as when the yellow one decided to direct its attention her way as well. If looks could kill, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have been a very, very dead woman.

Self-preservation took over and Doe slowly backed further into the group of recruits, trying to blend in with those around her and melt into the crowd. She side-stepped around Monroe. The EW3 was too dumbstruck by the giant robots to realize she was attempting to use him as a human shield, a fact she was most thankful for. Using the man's superior height and breadth as a barrier wasn't ideal concealment and wasn't quite enough to get her out of the beings' direct line of sight but it was better than nothing. She chanced a cautious look back in their direction from the corner of her eye. The yellow one seemed to have lost interest in her, thankfully, and seemed to be silently brooding. The silver one, however, still had its undivided attention focused on her and, much to Doe's horror, managed to catch her shy glance once again and responded with a wink. Doe's chest burned/tingled with renewed ferocity and she suddenly decided the toes of her boots were very interesting and focused her eyes there instead.

"My name is Optimus Prime," the former semi spoke, drawing the attention of all who were present. "We are a race autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron but you may call us Autobots. We are both humbled and honored to reside and work here amongst you but our presence has, unfortunately, come at a high cost. Most of you are familiar with the tragedy that befell Mission City..."

Doe knew she should have felt rapt attention at the alien leader's words. Her mind, however, was acutely aware of the two giant beings looming right on the edge of her periphery. It put her on edge and she was just barely able to restrain herself from screaming and running from the hangar like a crazy person. Instead, she scooted as close as she possibly could to Monroe as was decent given the situation and without drawing the man's scrutiny. This wasn't what she'd signed up for. She wanted the safety, security, and familiarity of the CIC she'd spent the last two years of her life in. She wanted routine and stability: two things that had always been sorely lacking in her life prior to enlisting. There was nothing stabile about this situation and, for the first time, she genuinely wished there was someone there to assure her that the situation would get better, even if it wasn't the truth.

"Only by working together can we overcome the obstacles set before us. Together we can assure that planet Earth does not meet the same fate at the hands of the Decepticons as our planet did. On that note, I'd like to introduce you to the other members of my team..."

Doe perked up slightly at those words. Knowing who the giant robots were could be vital information. Taking great care to avoid looking anywhere in the vicinity of the former Lamborghinis, she watched, trembling, as the one called Optimus Prime introduced the others one by one.

"Prowl is my Second in Command," the police car/robot stepped forward and gave a crisp nod to the crowd as Prime spoke. "He is a brilliant tactician and a master of logistics. Ironhide, our weapons specialist, also coordinates our mech/human combat training exercises."

The large, black robot stepped forward, the enormous cannons mounted to his arms humming menacingly, "Don't get any bright ideas."

"Ironhide," Prime warned before moving on to what had been a red Ferrari. "Mirage, our infiltrator and one of our best at gathering intelligence."

"Buongiorno," the robot said in an Italian accent, "Please, call me Dino."

Optimus continued, "Our two front liners, Sunstreaker and his brother Sideswipe, are experts at close quarters combat…"

Doe's heart nearly stopped and she immediately looked back down at her feet. She hadn't been fast enough to miss the way that the yellow one, Sunstreaker, adopted an intimidating stance as he surveyed the crowd, seemingly daring them to dispute this prowess on the battlefield, or the way the silver one, Sideswipe, threw a couple punches into the air like a boxer warming up for a prize fight. There was no doubt in Doe's mind that the two were powerful warriors. There was just something about the two that seemed to scream danger, the yellow one especially. The heat in her chest churned and tingled incessantly at her thoughts.

"Unfortunately," Prime continued, "Our scout, Bumblebee is currently on assignment and was unable to be with us this morning. He sends his warmest regards and looks forward to meeting you all in the near future. My First Lieutenant, Jazz, and my Chief Medical Officer, Ratchet, are currently tied up in the med bay but will make time to come around and introduce themselves to you all at a later time…"

Optimus wrapped up his words by again welcoming all the new recruits and reiterating how important is was that everyone worked as a team to fulfill their common goal. They were, after all, on the same team. He went on to say how he looked forward to making each and everyone's acquaintance before turning the show back over to Captain Lennox for any final thoughts.

Lennox thanked the mech before addressing the crowd once again. "The rest of your morning is going to be spent in indoc. Getting records turned in, going over the base rules, et cetera. The goal is to have you settling in to your new work spaces by this afternoon so that you can begin familiarizing yourselves with the way things work around here. Before I turn you all loose does anyone have any questions?" Lennox's eyes wandered over the group, looking for anyone who might have some pressing concern needing to be addressed. Nothing really stuck out to him, just the usual awe and curiosity he was used to seeing. "Alright," he nodded, satisfied. "You are all dis-"

"Wait," Sideswipe raised his hand drawing a chorus of confused looks from the humans and Autobots alike. "I have a question, Lennox."

"No you don't." Sunstreaker snarled and lunged at his brother, hissing, "Put your hand down, fragger."

"Yes, Sunny," Sideswipe expertly evaded his brother's hold, strafing gracefully away on a set of wheels attached to his feet. "I do."

The assembled crowd let out a gasp and backed away slightly as the mech skated his way closer to the group. He came to rest in a low crouch, elbows on his knee joints, directly in front of where EW3 Monroe stood with a terrified OS2 very nearly plastered against his back. The mech craned his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the woman.

"Hey," Sideswipe tried to gain the human femme's attention. "Excuse me…"

"Uh," Monroe shifted uncomfortably at the robot's closeness and, noticing how the woman was hiding behind him for the first time, he stepped out of the way. "OS2? I think he's talking to you."

Doe suddenly found herself exposed, staring wide-eyed up at the silver mech who knelt no farther than an arm's reach away from her. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm and the warmth inside of her felt as though it was trying to push its way out through her breast bone. She'd never passed out before but this was probably the closest she'd ever felt to succumbing to sudden unconsciousness.

"There you are." Sideswipe put on his most flirtatious smile, one that he knew from experience that femmes found attractive. "What's your name?"

Doe could feel all the eyes in the room suddenly on her person. She never liked being the center of attention since it usually ended in a bad way for her. She opened her mouth to respond, to say something, anything, that would shift attention away from herself but she couldn't get any words to come out. Her mind reeled for some sort of response that would stop the insanity as her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She didn't know what the metal creature wanted with her but it was obviously waiting on an answer to its relatively simple question.

Sideswipe tilted his head thoughtfully to the side. The woman was obviously overwhelmed and confused as all Hell and that wasn't what he wanted. The way she'd unconsciously been rubbing at her breast bone and tugging at her uniform throughout the briefing basically told him all her needed to know for his and Sunny's sake at the moment, anyway. She'd been affected, too, at least on some level. There was no sense in making any further scene out here in the open in front of everyone. Besides, he could feel Sunstreaker's anger and disgust building through their bond and knew his brother wasn't too far off from causing a scene of his own.

The mech leaned in close to the woman, his lip plates barely a hair's breadth from her ear, and spoke in a voice low enough that only she could hear. "It's alright. We can talk about it late-"

"Get up!" A pair of yellow and gun metal gray hands seized Sideswipe and jerked him backwards.

Doe reeled backwards as the mech flailed inches from her face as he tried to regain his balance. A pair of hands seized her, as well, dragging her away from the pair of now pissed off robots that had taken to grappling and shoving each other around the hangar. She very nearly screamed before she realized it was Monroe that had grabbed her. Someone was shouting and it took her a minute to realize it was Captain Lennox ordering everyone out. N.E.S.T. soldiers responded quickly, moving to herd the recruits outside before someone got hurt. Doe was caught up in the crush of bodies and just barely managed to catch a final glimpse of the two being forcibly separated by the black mech, Ironhide, and Prime's SIC, Prowl. The warm tingling in her chest continued unabated.

 **End of Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 5**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a lovely day. The last few days have been a little hectic for me. I had to take my bulldog in to the vet to have surgery and he is the biggest baby ever. So, between making sure I'm getting pain meds in him every eight hours and lots and lots of cuddles I haven't had too much writing time the last couple days. Now that he's more or less back to his wonderful goofy self, it's time to get on with the show! Many heartfelt thanks to all of those who have taken the time to read the first four chapters of this story and add it to their alerts and faves. Extra special thanks to those who have taken the time to leave reviews and comments: adelphe24 and Edges05. You are appreciated!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

After the drama in the hangar, the rest of the morning had gone more or less smooth. Shaken from her earlier experience, Doe had been more than thankful to have Monroe there to keep her company. The two had adopted a sort of buddy system, neither particularly wanting to wander a base full of possibly volatile robots on their own. Doe believed Monroe more or less suggested the arrangement for her benefit but she wasn't going to complain. After a brief indoc, they had completed the basic newbie tasks together in relative silence, like dropping off their medical, dental, and personnel records, and signing in with various departmental staff. They had been done by lunch time.

"Alright," Monroe chased the chicken and noodles he'd been eating with a swig of cola. "You know I have to ask. What the hell was with the robot guy this morning? That shit was intense."

Doe looked up from her ham sandwich, wide-eyed, and shook her head. "I don't...I don't know."

"I mean," Monroe shoved another forkful of food in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "He acted like he knew you. You know? Hey...you alright, OS2?"

Doe dropped the potato chip she'd been nibbling on back down to her tray. The tingly heat in her chest had dissipated from earlier and she'd been left with a feeling of throbbing emptiness which actually bothered her more than the electric warmth had. It was almost enough to make her want to go hide somewhere and cry. She pressed a hand against her breast to try to stave off the sensation. Something was wrong with her and had been since she'd touched that silver Lamborghini, she knew. "Honestly, I'm not sure."

Monroe raised a brow in question, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just...listen," Doe leaned across the table, lowering her voice and forcing Monroe to lean forward as well to hear what she was saying. "Last night," she started, "CMSgt Epps was showing me around and it drove up next to us and bumped him."

"The robot? Uh," Monroe's brow furrowed. "Sideswipe? The silver one?"

"Yes," Doe nodded. "Sideswipe. So, he bumps into Epps. Epps drops his bags and some of his stuff falls out onto the ground. Okay?"

"Okay," Monroe agreed. "I'm with you so far."

"Alright," Doe swallowed. "So Epps is yelling at this car, robot, whatever, and it was weird as hell but I thought I'd pick up some of his stuff for him, you know?"

Monroe nodded.

"While I was doing that I must have touched the car and it just..."

"What?" Monroe prodded the woman to continue, "What happened?"

"I think it- he shocked me." Doe shook her head. "It was so fast. I just...I don't know what happened. Ever since, though, I feel...weird."

"Weird?" Monroe looked at the woman with concern. "Weird how?"

"It's hard to explain," Doe rubbed her chest. "It's like a hot electrical buzzing or tingling. It doesn't hurt, exactly. It's kind of...God, I don't even know how to explain it. Some times it's more intense, sometimes not. When we were in the hangar earlier it felt like it was going to push itself out through my sternum."

"Did you go to medical after you got shocked?"

Doe shook her head, "No. I didn't think I needed to at the time."

"Well, you might want to think about it...just saying." Monroe cleared his throat. "I mean, those things are from a different planet. We don't know what they're carrying. For all we know they could have space rabies or some shit."

"Space rabies?" Doe snorted in amusement despite the gravity of the situation. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Monroe shrugged. "Giant rabid robots from outer space."

Doe couldn't help it and laughed out loud. "Sounds like a bad sci-fi B movie title."

"Or," Monroe continued as-a-matter-of-factly, "It could be radiation. Ever think about that? Is your hair falling out? Are you pissing blood?"

"What? No! Nothing like that," Doe vehemently denied any other ailments. "I've been through basic Rad-Con DC training. I don't think I was radiated."

"Still," Monroe pressed, "If it doesn't start feeling better you should get it checked out. Seriously, OS2. I mean it. There's no telling what that thing could have done to you."

"I will," Doe promised. "You're absolutely right."

"Good." Monroe finished up the last of his lunch and glanced at his watch. "Shit, man. We have to bounce." He looked to the woman seated across from him. "Where do you have to go next?"

"Uh, just a sec." Doe dug around in her pocket and pulled out a folded up itinerary. "Building H-3. What about you?"

"C-5." Monroe sighed, "I guess this is where we part ways for now."

"Yeah," Doe agreed, "I guess so."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Venturing out on her own in a new place had never been one of Doe's favorite things to do...especially in a place like this. She'd had no choice, though. After saying her goodbyes to Monroe and agreeing to try to meet up again for dinner, schedules permitting, she'd gone in search of building H-3 which was to be her new work space. As she walked, her eyes darted around her in search of any alien robots that may be lurking nearby. Thankfully, her search came up empty and she reached her specified location without incident.

"Excuse me," she approached one of the guards stationed at a security checkpoint right inside the building. "My name is OS2 Doe. I'm supposed to be reporting for duty."

The man looked her up and down. "Orders?"

"Yeah," Doe nodded uncomfortably and handed the man a folder. "Here they are."

The man read over them, seemingly unimpressed, and handed them back. "Straight through the middle to the back door. Go out and hang a right. You'll see the entrance to a bunker. Take the freight elevator down. Once you're there, have a seat and wait. Don't touch anything."

"Oh," Doe swallowed nervously. "Thank-thank you."

Following the man's directions, she'd walked through the building slowly, taking in the scenery with eager eyes. It was definitely an Operations Center of the highest caliber. The equipment was spectacular, even more so than what she'd worked with in her ship's CIC, and the personnel monitoring it moved about with practiced ease and efficiency. For the first time since she'd learned of her transfer, she felt a bit of excitement. That excitement was short-lived, however, once she'd reached her final destination.

The outside of the bunker had looked pretty old and unassuming. A posted sign declared that no unauthorized personnel were allowed beyond the freight elevator in both English and a strange glyphic text she could only assume was the alien's own language. The freight elevator seemed to be a fairly recent installation. It was all shiny steel compared to the dull, worn look of the rest of the place. She'd stepped inside and pressed the button that would take her down beneath the earth to her new life. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting...perhaps a brightly lit, technologically advanced work space like the one she'd passed through on her way. The reality, however, was far different.

Stepping off the elevator, Doe noted the bunker was huge, certainly large enough for even the largest Autobot, Optimus Prime, to move about in comfortably. That was about the only thing it had going in its favor. It was old, that much was painfully obvious, and she guessed the place may have been a hold over from the Cold War. It was fairly dark and dank as if it hadn't been put to use in a significant amount of time. Ancient, yellowed lightbulbs flickered high above giving the space an eerie feel. It was devoid of any furniture or equipment and her footsteps echoed ominously in the empty, cavernous space. In all, it sort of reminded her of a long-forgotten dungeon.

"Hello?" Doe called out as she wandered farther into the bunker. It was dead silent and she couldn't see anyone else in the place. The place was...abandoned. She began to wonder if she was even in the right place, if she was even supposed to be down here. "Is anybody there?"

Silence answered her.

"Great," she sighed and checked her watch. She didn't know where she was supposed to be but it obviously wasn't here and to top it off, she was late. She turned around, intent on making her way back to the freight elevator and getting out of the strange dungeon-like bunker when, all of a sudden, the elevator's doors rolled shut. Doe cursed under her breath, taking note that it was headed back to the surface. She hurried over and pushed the button to recall it, and leaned against the wall to wait for its return. In her mind she imagined the choice words she'd have with the Army asshole who'd sent her down here once she made it back upstairs.

When the elevator returned, however, it wasn't without occupants. When the doors rolled open again Doe was horrified to see two of the giant robots step out. They seemed to be arguing with one another in an strange clicking, chirping language that seemed oddly familiar but Doe couldn't place where she'd heard before it at the moment. She was too busy pressing herself back against the wall and trying to remain as invisible as possible. So preoccupied with her own self-preservation, it took her a moment to realize that these particular bots hadn't been in the hangar earlier.

One was larger than the other by quite a bit. The larger one was painted a bright, fluorescent green and looked pretty pissed off if the way he was stomping and waving his arms around was any indication. The smaller silver/gray one didn't seem too concerned about the green one's attitude, though. Doe noted that he moved slower than the other and with a significant limp. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn he was laughing at the bigger bot which only seemed to make it even more angry.

As quietly as she could, Doe tried to scoot closer to the open elevator doors and make her escape. Her movements didn't go unnoticed, however. The smaller of the two honed in on her location almost immediately. He seemed to brighten, his face forming an expression resembling a smile. The incident in the hangar still fresh in her mind from the last time one of these things had decided to pay attention to her, she decided she was so going to murder the guard that sent her down here.

"Hey," the smaller mech elbowed the green one in the abdominal region, his words switching flawlessly into English as he shuffled in the woman's direction. "As much as I'd love to stand here and continue to listen to you lecture me, Ratchet, I've got a pretty femme here that needs my undivided attention."

"A femme?" Ratchet's optics searched out and found the object of the other mech's attention and, giving her a nod of recognition, continued on with an exasperated sigh, "I'm sure she can wait five minutes for your attention. This is serious, Jazz."

"So is this." Carefully kneeling down to get closer to the woman's level on unsteady legs, he grinned at her. "OS2 Doe, I presume?"

"Uh," Doe nodded. "Y-yes."

"Perfect," the mech exclaimed. "I'm Jazz and the nagging bucket of bolts behind me is Ratchet."

Ratchet scoffed, "This 'nagging bucket of bolts' is the Chief Medical Officer with the power to remove you from duty and weld your aft to the ceiling if you don't stop acting like glitch!"

Jazz grinned at the woman, "He doesn't really mean that."

"The Pit I don't!" Ratchet raved, "This is the third time this week that I've had to reconnect and recalibrate your ambulatory neural filaments. The next time you try to contort yourself into some fancy, little sports car I'm going to leave you there flopping around on the ground."

"Nah," Jazz chuckled. "You wouldn't do me that way, Ratch."

"Want to try me?" Ratchet dared, "Go ahead and see what happens. And for Primus' sake, stop externalizing you spark core force field! It's diverting energy flow from your system's automated maintenance routines!"

"Come on, Ratchet," Jazz laughed. "It helps keep my body work buff! Be honest," he directed his attention to the woman. "How does my chassis look?"

"I-uh..." Doe looked around herself frantically for an escape. Finding none, she answered the bot hesitantly. "It looks...really nice?"

"See," Jazz turned back to with a triumphant smirk. "The femmes dig it."

"Oh, yes," Ratchet rolled his optics. "She looks quite impressed. I'm sure half-slagged piles of scrap that are barely holding themselves together really get her motor revving."

"Oh, that's cold, Ratch." Jazz frowned, "Real cold."

Ratchet focused his attention on the human femme. "Ms. Doe, was it? Do me a favor. If you see the Lieutenant doing anything more strenuous than sitting on his aft staring at a computer monitor, let me know. I've recently acquired some new nano probes I've been dying to try out."

Jazz shuddered at the threat as he watched the CMO turn and disappear back into the elevator before turning back to the female. He chuckled at the bewildered expression on her face. "Believe it or not, that actually went better than I expected it to. Don't let Ratchet worry you. He's a good mech. I just like to push his buttons."

"Oh," Doe stuttered as she watched the mech gingerly rise to his feet, swaying a bit before regaining his balance. "I-I see."

"Anyway," the mech threw his arms out in a grand gesture. "I'd like officially to welcome you to our new crib. I know it's not much to look at right now," he admitted, "But I promise you, you and I are gonna have this place jumpin' like you won't believe by the time we're finished."

 **End of Chapter 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 6**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Hopefully you're all having a fantastic day. I'm truly blown away by all the support this fic has gotten thus far. You guys are awesome and make me strive to be a better writer. My first and foremost goal is to provide you, the reader, with an enjoyable experience and knowing that you're having a good time brings a smile to my face. That said, I'd like to thank all of you who have taken the time to add this story to your alerts and favorites. Extra special thanks to those who have taken time to leave me a review for the last chapter: Nightwraith, Alice Gone Madd, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Princess Nightmare99, Edges05, Of-Light-and-Shadow, adelphe24 and guests. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Go Navy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Doe flipped the covers back on her bed and crawled into it, jerking them back up under her chin. She was both mentally and physically exhausted. The day had been harrowing, to say the very least, if not educational. After the initial shock had worn off and the fear she'd felt in the hangar had faded, she could admit that Jazz had certainly thrown her for a loop. For an alien robot, she hadn't expected him to be so...human. She supposed it could have been an act, a way to put her more at ease in his presence, but she really didn't think so. His words and mannerisms had seemed too genuine and flowed too smoothly to be faked for her sake.

Once Ratchet had left, Doe had found herself in the middle of the dank, cavernous room, sitting stiffly on an old, wooden desk chair that the Jazz had procured from some darkened corner or another. He'd pulled himself up a rusty metal drum and had plunked himself down atop it, seemingly studying her from his perch. It made her a little nervous that she couldn't see his eyes. He had some sort of visor covering them but she could see a soft, blue glow slightly though the opaque material. Though he wasn't nearly as large as the others, he still dwarfed her considerably and made her realize just how vulnerable she was in this place, away from any watchful human allies. She swallowed nervously and twisted her hands together in her lap, unsure as to what was supposed to happen next or what she was supposed to be doing.

"You can relax, you know."

The words had been spoken so suddenly in the eerie quiet that it caused Doe to jump in surprise. Her brain had heard him speak but hadn't processed the sound. Her face flushed in embarrassment, "I'm- I'm sorry?"

"I said, you can relax." The mech chuckled. "I'm not gonna try to wrestle you like the Terror Twins or anythin' like that. I promise."

Doe's eyes widened in confusion, "The Terror Twins?"

Jazz clarified, "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. I heard all about the scene they caused up in the hangar this morning. I'm sorry that happened. I should have been there to help keep 'em in line but I got myself into a little trouble with the doc. Prowler said it looked to him like the two of them decided to single you out for some reason."

"Yeah," Doe reluctantly agreed, "I-I guess they did..."

"Scary way to start your first day," Jazz shook his head. "Try not to let them get to you. The twins...they're...they're complicated to say the least. They definitely have a gift for causin' trouble but they're loyal...mostly to each other. They won't be bothering you while you're down here with me," Jazz soothed. "I can promise you that much. In the mean time, Prowl and Hide will get 'em sorted out so don't worry about it too much," Jazz added before looking at the woman seriously. "Just so you know, I'm not going to have those two slaggers messin' around with my girl and stressin' her all out. I mean it. If the twins give you any more problems, you let me know and I'll take care of it personally, aight?"

"I-thank you." Doe nodded, surprisingly relieved by the mech's concern. "I will."

"Good," the mech clapped his claw-like hands together. "Now, on to the really important matters. What's your favorite kind of music?"

The rest of the afternoon had been spent discussing popular Earth culture with the mech, much to Doe's surprise. He seemed particularly enamored by the planet's many, many different forms of musical expression. He'd apparently versed himself in everything from the earliest classical composers to the most modern of mainstream musicians and everything in between in the time he'd been on the planet. He was also a fountain of musical trivia. Prior to meeting him, she certainly hadn't known that termites ate wood twice as fast when listening to heavy metal, for starters. Honestly, he reminded her a bit of a little kid set loose in a candy store. His enthusiasm for human culture had made her smile and had pushed all thoughts of the hangar incident to the very back of her mind, at least for the time being.

Now that she was in the dark of her small room, curled up in her bed alone, those memories pushed their way back up to the surface. Though she was warm under her blankets, she shuddered. The electric buzz in her chest had receded to a barely noticeable tickle, eclipsed by a feeling of not-quite-rightness that she didn't really understand. The longer the feeling persisted the more she believed it had less to do with the shock she'd received and more to do with the mech who'd doled it out. What else could have caused his strange behavior in the hangar? She certainly hadn't asked for his undivided attention, not to mention being on the receiving end of his brother's obvious animosity. Jazz had said the twins were troublemakers, pure and simple, that they thrived on causing mischief. That hadn't seemed quite right to Doe either.

Exhaustion finally settled in and she felt her eyes drifting closed and her mind beginning to wander. It wasn't long until she found herself once again standing within a black abyss. The giant, mysterious, mumbling mass was still there hiding in the dark, as well. As she listened to its endless chatter, something in her mind clicked in recognition. She now knew where she'd heard Jazz and Ratchet's strange clicking, whirring language before. She still had no idea what was being said but, being a dream and completely illogical, her dream-self didn't seem too concerned that she was dreaming of an alien language she couldn't have possibly known of before she'd ever heard it spoken.

Instead, she peered into the blackness, eyes squinting, as she searched for the pinprick of light she instinctively knew was out there somewhere waiting on her. It hadn't taken her long to hone in on her target. The light was still a considerable distance away, barely a speck against a backdrop of perfect darkness, but she was relieved to see that it appeared slightly closer than it had been previously. Maybe she had managed to make some headway. With a new sense of purpose and determination, she set off in the direction of the light as if everything in her depended upon reaching it. The rumbling voice followed.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"That's how it's going to be, huh? You're just going to keep ignoring me? Over a fragging human? You can't be serious." Sunstreaker stood, gripping the bars that separated him from his twin who was across from him in a cell of his own. He really shouldn't have been too surprised that Prowl had taken the initiative to commission the construction of a Cybertronian-sized brig...just in case. Normally, his brother would have reveled in plotting a way to escape their bonds if for no other reason than to grind the SIC's gears. As it was, Sideswipe had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since being locked up and it was beginning to get on Sunstreaker's last nerve. Frustrated, he snarled, "I was doing you a favor, you glitch."

Sideswipe lay flat on his back on the floor of his cell staring up at the pitted, metal ceiling. One hand rested behind his head for support while the other drifted back and forth over his chest plates in a leisurely, contemplative motion. Hearing his brother's words, he ceased all movement, head snapping in the other mech's direction to look at him for the first time in several groons. "A favor?" The mech pushed himself up into a sitting position, all the better to glare at his twin. "She could have been hurt, Sunny...or killed."

The yellow mech snorted, "And there's over seven billion more of them where she came from! This entire planet is crawling with humans! Not a big loss in the big scheme of things! Take your pick!"

"Not a big loss?" Sideswipe looked at his brother incredulously. "How can you say that?"

Sunstreaker threw his arms up in exasperation. "What do you want me to say, Sides? That I'm sorry? Okay! Fine!." He pointed at his brother, "I'm sorry that you're such a half-clocked slag head that you think your little spark fluctuations actually mean something to an organic!"

"How do you know it doesn't?" Sideswipe was standing now, glaring at his brother. "She feels something, Sunny. I could see it in her eyes. She might not understand it but I know she does. You can feel it, too."

"The only thing I feel," Sunstreaker barked, "Is sorry for your dumb aft. Can you hear yourself? You're talking nonsense!"

"I'm talking nonsense?" Sides shook his head. "I'm not the one in denial! Maybe if you'd just touch her-"

"Touch her? You want me to touch that disgusting, greasy thing?" Sunstreaker laughed but it was devoid of humor, "And smudge up my paint job? I don't think so."

"She isn't disgusting," Sideswipe huffed. "She's actually kind of-"

"Shut up!" Sunstreaker's shout cut off the other mech's words. "You had better not been about to say that you find that-that SQUISHIE attractive. I swear to Primus I'm going to come over there and reformat your face!"

"Well, she isn't not attractive! You can't tell me you didn't notice some of the human males eyeing her up." The mech smirked at his brother. "I heard you over there growling about that guy that was whispering to her when they walked in."

Sunstreaker sputtered, "I was not!"

"Don't try to deny it," Sideswipe countered, "You were pissed. Even Mirage heard it and asked me what your problem was. Why are you fighting this so hard?"

"Because it's a pointless waste of time and energy!" Sunstreaker grit his denta together in frustration. "All you're doing is setting yourself...Pit! You're setting the both of us up for disappointment!"

"It doesn't have to be that way," Sideswipe pressed. "I'm sure if we just talked to her-"

"It's always that way, Sides! Always!" Sunny paced his cell. "Let's say for arguments sake you're right...which you're NOT," he emphasized. "The squishie reciprocates your stupidity. Then what, slagger? Have you even though ahead that far? No! Because you're glitched! It can't work! It won't! Because she's an ORGANIC! And that's not even taking into account the fact that we're twins and she would have absolutely no clue what all that entails. How do you think she'd handle that bit of information?"

"We can talk to her...the both of us. You know, explain things." Sideswipe simply shrugged, "We can figure something out."

"Figure something out? Yeah, because that's worked so well for us so far." Sunstreaker shook his head. "Sides, what's it finally going to take to get it through that thick plating of your's that it's just the two of us. That's the way it's been since we were sparklings and that's the way it's always going to be." Sunstreaker vented heavily, a frown tugging at his lip plates. "You should have learned that by now."

 **End of Chapter 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 7**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Have I told you today how amazing you are? No?! Well, let's fix that right now. You're amazing! Truly, you are! I hope you're all having a fabulous day. Any day I'm able to update is fabulous for me! I thought it would be kind of nice to take a peek inside Sunny's head this go round. So, that's mostly what this chapter will entail. He's pretty dead set against the whole situation so maybe we'll get to see his reasoning in this one and maybe figure him out a little bit. Sorry if it isn't too exciting but I think our shiny, yellow mech is a bit deeper than people give him credit for. Don't you agree? There's a method to my madness. I promise. Anyway, I'd very much like to thank all you wonderful people who've added this story to your alerts and favorites. You rock and I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story! Extra special love to those who've taken time to leave a review: Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Alice Gone Madd, Edges05, Mywinx14 adelphe24, CheshirePierrot, ShadowTomes. Your awesomeness knows no bounds and your words keep me inspired and keep me writing!**

 **On a side note, this chapter does contain some vague references to implied twin interfacing (Not slash! Eww! They're brothers, you sickos! LOL!). I don't think it's enough to warrant a rating change, at least not at this point, but if you guys feel differently, please let me know and I'll make a note. You have been warned! :)**

 **P.S. This is kind of a long one. Sorry if it rambles!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sunstreaker was bored and more than a little irritated. It was a dangerous state of being for a mech of his volatile disposition to be in on even the best of days. Further compounding his predicament was the fact that he and his brother had been forcibly separated by the powers that be as an additional form of penance for nearly squishing the new squishies in the hangar a couple days prior. He hadn't seen the big deal as no one had actually been hurt, but apparently two cycles in the brig hadn't been enough to satisfy the brass. So, while Sideswipe was out patrolling under the watchful optics of the Autobot's SIC, Sunstreaker had found himself at the mercy of the resident Weapon Specialist. It was, in his opinion, a rather cruel and unusual form of punishment.

Ironhide, of course, had been delighted to finally get his hands on the front liner. Ironhide had called it "combat drills" but Sunstreaker knew it was just an excuse for the mech to try to beat the slag out of him without the worry of consequences or repercussions. Try was the operative word, however. Sunny's lip plates curled up in a self-satisfied smirk. Hide may have had a size and strength advantage but it sometimes seemed as though the other Autobots forgot that he and Sides had paid their dues in the Gladiator Pits. Sunstreaker had been one of the best, he certainly wasn't above fighting dirty, and had brought down mechs three and four times his size before the roaring masses in the stands. Each victory, however, had been bitter sweet. His and Sides' time spent in the fighting rings wasn't something he dwelled on too often. It had been an arrangement of necessity more than choice, the last resort of the desperate.

Sunstreaker was in no mood to contemplate his violent past. He had other, more pressing matters on his processor at the moment and Ironhide's impromptu "training session" had come to an abrupt end once Sunstreaker had been able to move in close enough to the other mech in order disable his shoulder making his right arm completely useless. Ironhide has not been pleased to say the very least and Sunstreaker was certain there would be some additional punishment coming his way for causing the injury...most likely in the form of an irate CMO. After some pointless flailing and swearing up a storm, Ironhide had eventually retreated to the med bay for repairs leaving Sunstreaker to his own devices once again.

It wasn't to say Sunstreaker had escaped the episode dent-free. Ironhide had certainly got in his share of the punches. Sunstreaker's normally pristine yellow armor was dirty, scratched and scuffed, much to his disgust and displeasure. He'd only just buffed out his armor this morning after spending two cycles locked in a cell devoid of any wax or polish which in itself was a form of torture in his optics. Some of the others, scratch that, most of the others viewed him as self-centered and vain due to his preoccupation with his appearance. They couldn't even possibly begin to comprehend the reasoning behind his seeming obsession. He certainly wasn't going to pour his spark out to them. Let them think whatever they wanted. He didn't care. He didn't owe any of them a damn thing and their opinion meant nothing to him, anyway. The only person who really mattered was Sideswipe and he understood perfectly, having his own coping mechanisms and idiosyncrasies, and allowed him his indulgence with no questions asked and a minimal amount of teasing.

 _Sideswipe_.

The thought of his twin caused a growl to rumble out of his voice processor. The sound sent the few humans in his vicinity scrambling to put distance between themselves and the mech. That made him grin. At least the oily, little things were finally learning to stay out of his way. His pleased look faded as soon as he turned the corner into the hallway that led to the berth room he and his brother shared. He didn't know what in the Pit to do about the situation Sideswipe has gotten them into. Sides had always been the optimistic one of the two and no amount of violent threats or logical reasoning would sway the mech or open his optics to the imminent disaster he had them hurtling towards. The fact that the entire situation was completely ridiculous to start with didn't even seem to phase him. It didn't even seem to concern Sides in the slightest that the third party in the scenario was, more likely than not, completely clueless to the mess she'd inadvertently stumbled into. No, Sideswipe believed they could make her see reason if they could just sit down and have a simple conversation with her. As if that would ever happen.

Venting in exasperation, Sunstreaker pushed his way into the berth room and made a beeline for the shelf that held his personal cleaning supplies. He gathered what he needed to buff and polish away the evidence of his tussle with Ironhide, settled himself down on his berth, and began the cathartic process of shining his armor. As he worked, he found himself thinking of how much easier life would be if he and Sides weren't spark twins. He didn't feel guilty for the thought. He knew his brother had shared the same thoughts on more than one occasion throughout their lives...typically when they didn't see eye-to-eye on something of major importance. The idea that they could each lead their own lives, untethered from the actions of the other, without the burden of being treated like some sort of novelty by those around them was definitely appealing. It certainly would have been a blessing in their current predicament.

He couldn't imagine a life without Sideswipe, though. If they didn't have each other, well, that was something he didn't even want to fathom. The two of them had gone through the Pit and back together and had lived, thus far, to tell about it. Growing up on the mean streets of Kaon from a young age, alone and creator-less, they'd managed with only each other to rely on. Sunstreaker liked to believe they were all the more stronger for it. They had forged an unbreakable, unshakable bond that went far beyond the spark energy they shared. He understood his twin's desire for something more, however, something beyond the two of them. At one point he was sure he'd also shared those same sentiments but time and numerous disappointments had long since extinguished any thoughts along those lines he may have had.

Sunstreaker was a realist, unlike his brother.

On Cybertron, true twins were a rarity with curiosity being the prevailing emotion where they were concerned. This held true in most aspects of their existence. It was no secret to anyone that twins were a package deal in every sense. Where one went, the other had little choice other than to follow. It was this bit of knowledge that piqued others' interest, particularly femmes who were fascinated by the prospect of what was commonly referred to as 'The Twin Experience'. Most were simply seeking a quick thrill or hoping for a steamy story to share with their friends after the fact. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, not surprisingly, had often found themselves 'entertaining' a femme for a night or two but seldom any longer than that. While it appeared the two of them were good enough to interface with, they apparently weren't good enough for anything beyond an incredible overload and most femmes were crawling out of their berth and back to wherever they came from before the morning broke, never to be seen or heard from again.

Sideswipe never failed to be disappointed when nothing came of their exploits but, honestly, Sunstreaker couldn't blame them. Unlike his brother who still harbored some delusional sparklinghood fantasy that they'd one day have a happy, little family of their own, Sunstreaker could readily admit that if he found himself in the same situation he'd cut and run, too. It took a lot of hard work and sacrifice to maintain a healthy relationship with just one other person. It shouldn't have been surprising that the prospect of tying one's self to two completely different individuals with such vastly different personalities, interests, and demeanors was enough to give any reasonable femme pause. Their stark differences meant one of them always ended up being favored over the other and it could never work that way with them. The femmes either fell for Sides' warm, romantic disposition and viewed Sunstreaker as being much too cold and aloof or they got a thrill out of Sunny's more dominate nature and found Sideswipe to be too soft and gentle for their tastes.

Needless to say, Sunstreaker had long since given up on the notion of them ever finding someone they both cared about who could care about both of them, equally, in return. It wasn't as if they even had anything substantial to offer a femme outside of themselves. They had barely had two credits to rub together between the two of them. They had lived in a cheap, shitty hole-in-the-wall apartment with few prospects for anything better. As they'd been told on more than one occasion, they simply weren't spark mate material. They weren't really in a position to disagree and if experience hadn't been enough to turn him off the idea, the war certainly had done the trick. Their continued survival trumped any thoughts of finding companionship in every way. Dismantling Decepticons had proved to be an excellent distraction and provided a fantastic outlet for pent up feelings. Sunstreaker believed they'd had a good routine going. Then, they'd come to Earth and Sideswipe had gone off and lost his mind...or so Sunstreaker had told himself.

The mech snorted in distaste as he finished polishing himself and returned his supplies to the shelf. He wasn't sure what to do with himself now but he had no desire to stick around his room waiting for Ironhide or, even worse, Ratchet to come looking for him to exact some sort of retribution. Sparring hadn't been his idea but it wouldn't matter. He'd be the one that was punished. Giving himself one final inspection to insure his armor was back to its normal glossy sheen, he exited his and Sideswipe's quarters and made his way outside into the hot afternoon sun. He strolled leisurely between the buildings, simply wasting time until his brother returned from patrol with Prowl, sending humans running for cover, and let his thoughts wander.

He thought of Earth and how, though the artist in him found it aesthetically pleasing at times, it was a filthy place. Literally, the planet was constructed out of dirt and rock. Even the name 'Earth' meant dirt. He absolutely despised the grainy particulate matter that covered the ground and inevitably kicked up in small clouds beneath his feet, marring his yellow armor with a grimy film every time he ventured off the paved areas. Its main inhabitants, the humans, weren't much better in his opinion. They were greasy, their skin constantly oozing lubricant and salty coolant from millions of tiny pores all over their bodies, leaving oily smudges on everything they touched. He couldn't comprehend how some of the others delighted in being so close to them, touching them, letting themselves be touched and, Primus forbid, actually letting them ride inside their alt modes. The very idea made Sunstreaker shudder in revulsion.

That thought, naturally, brought him back around to contemplating his own unfortunate set of circumstances. Sides had said he and the human femme had "zapped" one another when they'd touched, whatever that meant. He didn't want to contemplate the reason why his brother had been in a position in the first place to have physical contact with said femme. All he knew for certain was that whatever his idiot brother had done to himself was bleeding through their bond and causing him an acute feeling of not-quite-discomfort. At the first curiously warm tingle, he'd been intrigued, wondering what Sides could have possibly been doing to elicit such an odd, if not pleasant, sensation. When his brother had finally burst through their door, rambling excitedly on about Epps and some human femme who'd groped his fender he'd nearly lost it. He'd been pissed, disgusted even, but also the smallest bit curious.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to want to see the squishie for himself. He'd told his brother he simply wanted to prove how absurd he was being, believing there was some mystical connection with an organic. There was no way, he'd insisted, that a tiny human female was capable of causing this kind of reaction in a mech, let alone a pair of them. Something else had to be at work in the situation. Logically, they were incompatible in every way and, despite the warm fuzzy feeling bleeding through the bond he shared with his brother and causing his spark to quicken its pulse, Sunstreaker insisted on the impossibility of such a thing being able to occur. So, he'd found himself in his vehicle form, parked across the lot from the humans' barracks, Sideswipe chatting excitedly in his audio, waiting for a glimpse of the mysterious femme his brother was so fascinated by, and hellbent on proving him wrong so they could both move on with their lives.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting but he certainly hadn't been prepared for the petite blond woman that had eventually emerged from the barracks or the effect she'd have on him. He found that he couldn't take his optics off of her. The warm sensation lodged behind his chest plates had expanded pleasantly and, though his wheels remained immobile, he felt compelled to move closer to the source of this unusual feeling. His brother's giddy excitement was bleeding through their connection and causing his own spark to pulse faster in response. He realized with dawning horror that neither he nor Sides had ever felt this drawn to a femme before. Attracted, yes, but never so...wanting. This was not good. Anger welled up inside of him, tempering any good feelings he might have had. He had the sudden urge to transform right then and there and throttle his twin for putting him in this kind of position. That thought was put on pause, however, when he noticed the second human.

Sunstreaker clenched his fists in anger as he stomped his way across the base complex. His relaxing stroll was proving to be anything but and his thoughts kept coming unbidden. He again cursed his brother for Putting him in this situation he never wanted to be in. That day he'd been too focused on the femme at first to pay the man with her much attention. Once he'd gotten over his initial shock, he'd became hyperaware of just how close he stood to the woman, subtly touching her during the course of their conversation as they walked together. They laughed. She smiled. Jealousy was not an emotion Sunstreaker had felt often but at that moment his vision was clouded with it. Sideswipe must have misinterpreted his confused sense of anger as being directed toward the situation itself as he tried desperately to talk him back down before he did something they'd both regret. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to throw his alt form into reverse and peel out of the lot.

The hangar incident hadn't been much better. He had been aware of her the second she'd stepped inside. Normally of the opinion that all humans looked alike, it alarmed him how easily he was able to pick her out of a crowd. He'd never say she was attractive, not out loud and certainly not within earshot of his twin, but there was a certain aura about her that he found strangely appealing that the other humans seemed to lack. He knew Sideswipe had noticed it as well and was busy watching her with rapt attention. It hadn't escaped Sunstreaker's notice, however, the the very same human male from earlier had been busy whispering in her ear. He hadn't been able to contain the growl that rumbled from his vocalizer as that same jealous feeling throbbed within him. He'd spent most of the entire briefing, right up to the point he and Sideswipe had gotten into it, studiously ignoring the woman and her male companion for fear of acting out on his violent impulses. It hadn't seemed to make any difference in the end, though.

Sunstreaker suddenly snapped out of his dark thoughts and was a bit surprised to see that his aimless wandering had brought him to the very edge of the military base and that he could go no farther. A high, razor wire fence separated the base proper from the rest of the island. From where he stood he had an excellent view of the surrounding ocean and he paused for a moment to take it all in. It would have made a beautiful painting, he absently thought, had he the time and inspiration to engage in such an activity. His fingers twitched, imagining the slight weight of a paintbrush gripped between them. He realized that he missed it, the creativity. He was much more familiar with the feel of a pulse rifle in his hands these days. It was a somber realization. When was the last time he'd done anything even remotely artistic? He couldn't even remember but was certain it had to have been prior to the war breaking out and Primus knows that had been going on for much, much too long.

Venting in weariness, he took one last long look at the churning waves before pivoting on his heel and heading back in the direction he'd came. On a whim, he decided make his way to the designated rec building and grab some energon, figuring he didn't have anything better to do until Sideswipe returned. Altering his course, he cut between two of the smaller buildings that housed radar equipment. As he rounded the corner of one of the buildings he happened to overhear a conversation between a group of men, one being the man who seemed so interested in his and Sides unwitting femme. Normally, he wouldn't have given them much thought and kept right on moving, but he'd already decided that he disliked this human more than the others. So, he stopped in his tracks, unmoving and listening, feeling his mood darken dangerously with every word uttered.

"So, ya'll like it here, right?" Monroe asked. "I mean, I've only been here a few days. I'm still trying to figure out what I've got myself into."

"Yeah," another man agreed. "It's alright. I've been stationed worse places, trust me. Support staff here has it made, dude."

"It's definitely better than sitting in a tent out in the middle of the desert," a third man chimed in. "You know what would make it even better, though?"

"What's that?" the second man asked curiously.

"Some bad bitches." The man made a lewd gesture and the two other men burst out laughing.

"I know that's right," the second man agreed before turning his attention to Monroe. "Ay, speaking of which, what about that chick you're always wondering around here with, bro? I see you chatting her up in the chow hall every night. What's the story there? She's fine as hell."

"Fuck, yeah," the third man agreed. "I'd be smashing the hell out of that, son."

"OS2 Doe?" Monroe asked with a grin. "She's cool, you know?" After a brief moment, the man chuckled. "Not gonna lie, though. If the opportunity presented itself, you'd best believe I'd be all up in there in a heartbeat." At the sailor's declaration the other two men erupted into laughter and whoops of encouragement.

Sunstreaker's denta ground together and he felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him. Without any rational thought as to what he was doing, he stormed around the corner of the building. Monroe's two companions seemed to recognize the danger right away and fled the scene amid exclamations of 'fuck, dude' and 'shit, bro'. Monroe, however, wasn't as wise to the yellow warrior's reputation on base and remained frozen where he stood wearing a look that appeared to be a cross between confusion and terror on his face. A low growl rumbled up from deep within the mech's chassis, the sound causing the man to take a couple cowering steps backward.

"H-hey, man," Monroe stuttered. "Uh, c-can I help you with something...Sir?"

"What did you say?" Sunstreaker's voice was deep and dark, promising very bad things if he didn't get an answer that he liked.

Monroe's eyes widened in fear, "I-I didn't say anything. I don't know what you're talking about..."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, fleshie," Sunstreaker hissed as he leaned in close to the man, his optics narrowed into slits, his chest plates heaving, each ventilation sending a wave of stifling hot air into the human's pale, sweaty face. He glared down upon the trembling man and demanded once again, "What the frag did you just say?"

 **End of Chapter 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 8**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all enjoying this fantabulous day. I'm happy to have finished another chapter so all is well over here in Voodoo Land. As always, I'd like to give a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story and add it to their alerts and favorites. Your support is much appreciated! Thank you also to the lovely people who took time out of their day to leave a review: adelphe24, Edges05, The Whispering Sage, Don't judge me I'm a Fangirl, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, KayleeChiara, Pixiekatt, I'm just gonna, ' . You guys are awesome and I can't thank you enough for sticking with me so far :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Petty Officer Doe stood, hands firmly planted on her hips, staring at the large shipping pallets that had been dropped off in front of the entrance to the bunker she and Jazz were supposed to be transforming into some sort of state-of-the-art Command Information Center, according to him. The hot, noon-day sun beat down from above prompting her to pull her cover off and wipe the beads of sweat that dotted her forehead with the back of her arm. Putting the hat back on her head, she pulled the brim down low to shield her eyes, and sighed. The Unit Supply Specialist that she had spoken with on the phone yesterday had assured her the items she and Jazz had ordered for their work space would be delivered today but she hadn't expected them to just throw it all off of the truck and leave. The least they could have done was shove it all in the elevator.

How the hell did they expect her to move all this crap? She was only one person and really didn't understand what Jazz hoped to accomplish with only her as his sole staff. He was insistent that the two of them could handle it...whatever 'it' was. She still wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing and they really hadn't talked about anything over the last few days outside of music, movies, and popular television shows that Jazz had stumbled across. She figured it was probably his way of putting her at ease, which she appreciated, but she really was beginning to wonder whether or not the mech actually needed someone with a background in operations or if he had just wanted some random human to hang out with and shoot the breeze. Not that she was complaining since she was surprised to find that she actually enjoyed the big guy's company once she got over the idea that he was an alien from another planet, but still. She didn't like to feel like she didn't have a specific purpose or job to perform. She was used to having to earn her keep wherever she went and was actually immensely relieved when he'd stepped off the elevator two days ago proclaiming they were going to "invest in some swag" and start getting the place in order.

She just hadn't expected said swag to be so...plentiful.

Honestly, she wasn't even entirely sure what all the stuff was. She certainly hadn't ordered this many items, just the things they had immediate need of: lightbulbs that didn't produce seizure-inducing flickering, a couple computer terminals and peripheral equipment, and some basic office supplies to get them started off on the right path. She figured she'd been looking at maybe a pallet of items to move downstairs at the most. That she could have dealt with. Instead, the base Quartermaster detachment had dropped off seven of the damn things. She could only assume Jazz had added to the order significantly before submitting it. Though, she couldn't really imagine what a large, robot alien could possibly have immediate need of that would take up seven pallets worth of space. Curious, she approached the closest one and dug a box cutter out of her pocket. Slicing through the cellophane wrapping, she quickly cut open the top box and rummaged through its contents.

"What the hell?" Doe snorted in amusement as she dug around through the contents. "Seriously? Is this a stereo surround sound system?" She couldn't help but laugh as God only knew what else he had ordered, "Come on now, Jazz...priorities."

Shaking her head and still chuckling to herself, she dropped everything back into the box and dusted her hands off on her BDUs. Taking a tentative look around, she debated on whether or not she should ask anyone for help. Or if there was anyone she could ask for help, for that matter. There were plenty of soldiers and marines milling around but they all seemed to be wrapped up in their own duties and she certainly wasn't going to disturb them. Jazz had been recalled back to the med bay by the CMO, Ratchet, for some kind of checkup or another. It seemed as if he spent just as much time there as he did down in the the 'Dungeon', as she'd taken to calling the bunker. The mech was obviously in pretty bad shape and she wanted so badly to ask him what had happened to him but she didn't want to seem rude or nosy. Regardless, he wouldn't have been able to be of much help even if he had been around...doctor's orders and all that.

Realizing that she was probably all the help she was going to get, she set off in search of a pallet jack or something that she could use to relocate the supplies. As she moved through the base complex, she was a bit taken aback when she caught sight of a familiar face slipping through the crowd. She hadn't seen or heard from the EW3 in two days. It was odd considering they lived in the same barracks and had gotten into the habit of eating breakfast and dinner together each day where they would chit chat about what had transpired during their day, discuss the strangeness of their new positions, and swap sea stories from their previous commands. She was almost inclined to believe the guy had been avoiding her for the last couple days but she couldn't think of any reason why that would be. She'd thought they'd been getting on well with one another. She would have been lying of she said the thought of him suddenly deciding hanging out with her wasn't worth his time didn't sting. Especially since he was really the only person she knew on base and spoke to regularly...alien robot supervisors didn't count.

Pushing down her feelings of rejection aside, she started to call out to him and say hello but something about the way he was acting gave her pause for a moment. The man practically darted from cover to cover, eyes wide and searching about his surroundings, casting frequent glances over his shoulder as if he were afraid that he was being followed. He honestly looked terrified, like he expected someone or something to jump out and grab him up at any given moment. Doe watched him for a few seconds with growing concern. He certainly wasn't acting like the happy-go-lucky, funny guy she'd spent the last week getting to know. Something was obviously wrong. Brow furrowed in worry, she set off across the grounds to intercept him.

"Hey, Monroe!" Doe smiled and waved but was nearly bowled over by the look of sheer panic that twisted the man's features when he jerked around to face her. All the color seemed to drain from his face leaving him a sickly, ashen gray color and Doe found herself afraid that he may actually pass out right then and there. She approached him cautiously. "Hey...Are you alright? You don't look so good."

"Uh...OS2...I, uh..." Monroe's eyes darted around fearfully, looking everywhere but at the woman in front of him. "I-I'm fine..."

"Are you sure?" She asked, worried for him. She reached out to touch his arm. "Maybe you should go to sick call. You really do look terrible. No offense."

"I'm fine!" He snapped and snatched his arm away from her as if she'd burned him, his eyes darting wildly around as if afraid someone may have seen the action, "I-I I'm just..." He seemed to want to say something more but something passed her seemed to instantly catch his attention. His eyes widened almost comically and he paled even more if that was even physically possible. He stumbled back away from her several steps uttering a mantra of, "Oh,God. Oh, shit. Oh, God..."

"Monroe," Doe, worried, tried to take a step after him. "Do you need-"

"No!" Monroe threw his arms out in front of him, palms out, as if trying to ward off some kind of an attack and continued to back away from the woman slowly. "L-Look, OS2, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I really am. Like you can't even believe..."

"What?" Doe stared at him in confusion. "Why? What in the world are you talking about?"

Monroe swallowed hard, "I have mad respect for you as-as a superior and as a person and I a-apologize if anything I-I've said or d-done has offended you in any way."

Doe shook her head. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. You haven't done anything to offend me."

"Yes, I have," he insisted. He gave her a pleading look. "Please...just...accept my apology. Please, OS2..."

"Uh..." Doe nodded slowly, still having no clue what he babbling on about. "Yeah, sure Monroe. No worries. Apology accepted."

"Thank you," he gasped, looking as if he could have cried in relief. "Thank you!"

"You're, uh, welcome." Her brow furrowed, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," he nervously affirmed as he inched away, eyes still fixated on something in the distance. "Look, I gotta go. I really, really gotta go. Like, now."

"Oh," Doe frowned. "I guess I'll see you around later then."

"Yeah," the man nodded absently as he continued to back away. "Later."

With a puzzled look on her face, Doe watched as Monroe retreated quickly into the nearest building, the doors slamming shut behind him. As soon as he was gone from her sight, she became acutely aware of the feeling of being watched. The strange electric feeling in her chest, which had tapered off over the last couple days to a barely noticeable tickle flared back up to a warm buzz. Taking in a shaky breath and pressing a hand against her breastbone, she did a slow about face and almost immediately wished she hadn't. There, a mere building's length away from where she stood, were the 'Terror Twins' as Jazz frequently referred to them.

The silver one, Sideswipe, appeared to be nearly doubled over in laughter while his golden brother, Sunstreaker, stood with his arms folded across his chest, glaring daggers in her direction. Their eyes met across the distance and Doe couldn't help but shiver at the cold intensity that seemed to roll off the mech in waves. She wasn't afraid, not exactly, but she did feel a creeping concern that she may have been missing out on something important. Though, what that may have been she hadn't the slightest clue. Between the strange dream she'd been having every single night and the even stranger feeling she'd had lodged in her chest she wasn't really sure that she wanted to know. Still, there was something about the pair that was...intriguing.

They remained that way for a long moment, each party watching the other from a relatively safe distance. Sideswipe had more or less managed to compose himself and had joined their little staring contest. The silver mech, however, seemed to be in a much more jovial mood than his counterpart and raised his hand in greeting. Almost without thinking, Doe raised the hand she didn't have clamped over her heart to return the gesture. This seemed to snap Sunstreaker back into the here and now and he instead turned to glare at his twin. For a moment, it seemed as if they were engaged in some sort of argument with Sideswipe gesturing excitedly in Doe's direction while Sunstreaker vehemently shook his head in the negative while making a slashing motion with his hands.

Doe wasn't sure what their discussion entailed but she certainly felt unnerved that she seemed 9to be their focus. She briefly entertained the motion of turning tail and running back to the Dungeon to hide until Jazz got back. That thought was cut short, however, when a large, clawed hand descended upon Doe's shoulder. The woman let out an undignified squeak, drawing the curious glance of a couple passing Marines much to her embarrassment, as well as the renewed attention of both twins. It was no small relief when she looked up to find the soft glow of Jazz's visor looking back at her.

"Sorry," the mech chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare ya."

"No," Doe shook her head. "You didn't. I guess I'm just..." She glanced back in the twins' direction. They were watching quietly. Doe rubbed her chest. "You just surprised me. That's all. It's been a weird day."

"Weird, huh?" Jazz followed the woman's line of sight, his optics immediately zeroing in on the two troublesome mechs. His mouth pulled down into a frown. "Weird how? Are those two giving you any trouble?"

"Them? Oh, no," Doe denied with a shake of her head. She watched, a bit apprehensively, as Sunstreaker elbowed his brother, jerking his head in a 'let's go' motion before stalking off. Sideswipe lingered a moment longer before shooting a sloppy salute in her and Jazz's direction and skating off after his twin. "This was actually the first time I've seen them since the briefing in the hangar."

"That's not surprising," Jazz sighed. "They've spent most of their time in the brig since then."

"The brig?" Doe's eyes widened in surprise. "Why?"

"Someone could have been hurt with them shoving each other around. Optimus doesn't play around with stuff like that." Jazz continued, "He thought a couple days in the brig might do them some good. Think about what they did, you know?" The mech shrugged. "Never does much to change their attitude, though. Prowler let 'em out and they and ended up going straight back that same night for two more cycles."

Doe frowned as she rubbed her chest, "What for?"

"Oh," Jazz sighed, "The usual. Sunstreaker broke a cog in Ironhide's shoulder during a training exercise and Ratchet went ballistic."

"That sounds more like an accident to me," Doe observed.

"When it comes to those two, there are no accidents." Jazz leveled his gaze on the woman. "Trust me."

"Okay..." Doe shook her head. Something still didn't feel right. "But why send both of them back to the brig for something one of them did? It doesn't really sound fair to me."

"They're twins." Jazz spoke the two words as if they were the answer to all the great mysteries of the universe. He must have assumed that cleared up any confusion since he pressed on to other subjects. He hadn't missed the way she seemed to be favoring the area over her heart. "Are you alright?"

Doe looked up at him in surprise. 'I'm fine. Why?"

"You seem a little," Jazz paused for a moment as if searching for the right word. "Uncomfortable."

"Oh," Doe immediately dropped her arm to her side. "Yes," she nodded. "I'm fine. Just some, uh, indigestion or something. That's all. The galley, uh, chow hall was serving breakfast burritos this morning."

"Ah," Jazz hummed in sympathy. "Anything I can do?"

"No," Doe smiled in thanks. "It'll pass. Did, uh, did you need me for something?"

"I was lookin' for ya," Jazz admitted. "I saw that they dropped off all the stuff we ordered."

"Yeah," Doe nodded but her mind was still on the twins. "I, uh, was going to see if I could find a pallet jack or something so I could take the pallets downstairs. I didn't expect there to be so many of them."

Jazz chuckled, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, I might've added a couple things. But don't worry about it," Jazz grinned. "I've managed to procure a cube of triple-filtered Urayan high grade which I've agreed to give to Mirage in exchange for his assistance." Jazz winked at her. "That mech isn't big on manual labor but with the right motivation..."

"Ah," Doe smiled. She had no idea what a Urayan high grade was but if it helped move all their cargo downstairs she wasn't going to ask too many questions. "That's awesome."

"Yep," Jazz chattered on as they both started a slow trek back toward the bunker. "And, I've got some exciting news."

Doe perked up, "Oh?"

Jazz looked down upon his companion thoughtfully. "I can't go into too much detail right now but Optimus wants to meet with the both of us tomorrow to discuss a few things. He's been in meetings with the National Security Director and the Secretary of Defense and most of the Presidential Cabinet all morning trying to hash out some of the details. I don't know how he did it but he managed to get them to agree to most of what he wanted...the important stuff, anyway. I hope you're up for a challenge."

Curiosity thoroughly piqued, Doe nodded. "Always."

"Excellent!" Jazz clapped his hands together. "I knew you were the right femme for the job. I just had a feeling, you know?" The mech laughed, "Now, let's go see what else we can talk Mirage into doing for a cube."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe hurried along after his brother. Jazz's sudden appearance hadn't exactly been welcome but it hadn't been a total loss. He was still chuckling to himself occasionally over how spooked their femme's male-friend had been when he'd laid eyes on Sunny. Intakes still wheezing in mirth, he managed to ask his twin,"So...does this mean you're willing to give it a try?"

"What?" Sunstreaker stopped in his tracks and whirled on his brother, irritation burning in his optics. "Give it a try? Are you mis-clocked? Pit, no! It just means I don't like that human!"

"You don't like any humans," Sideswipe reasoned. "But you haven't bothered to go out and put the fear of Primus into any of the others."

With a huff of dismissal, Sunny turned away from his twin and kept walking. "He caught me in a bad mood. So?"

"So," Sides continued as he caught up, "You're always in a bad mood. I just think it's a little coincidental that the one human you choose to single out to vent your disgust for humanity on just so happens to be the same guy that's been welded to our femme's hip for the last week."

"Let's get one thing straight, slag for brains," Sunny growled. He'd stopped moving and spun back around to face his twin once again, a finger pointing in the other mech's face. "She isn't our femme. She will never be our femme. She isn't even our species, for Primus' sake! She's just another fragging human who probably thinks we're a bunch of giant metal monsters trying to take over her planet and you've got a bolt loose somewhere if you think she'd want anything to do with you...with either of us...outside of her duties."

"You don't know that," Sideswipe argued.

Sunstreaker challenged, "Don't I?"

Sides smirked, "You know what I think?"

"No," Sunny barked. "And I don't care."

Undaunted, the silver mech continued, "I think you're curious. You may even like her just a little. You just don't want to admit it."

"Curious?" Sunstreaker scoffed. "I think the word you're looking for, brother, is repulsed. I find this whole situation repulsive, no thanks to your dumb aft. Only you could get us mixed up in something like this." He turned away with a huff of disgust oand resumed walking. "I don't like her. I don't even know her. Neither do you, for that matter."

Sideswipe watched his twin go, his head tilted in thought. What Sunny said was true enough. They didn't really know anything about her other than that she was a Navy Operations Specialist that Jazz had picked out personally to collaborate on the big, secret project he had going on below ground. Sides knew her last name was Doe because he'd been close enough to read the embroidered name off her uniform in the hangar. Other than that, the femme was a complete mystery outside of the havoc she was causing in and Sunny's sparks.

The mech hummed to himself, a slow grin spreading across his face plates. They didn't know her but that could certainly be fixed. He'd just need to exercise some...discretion. A plan was slowly formulating in his processor. He didn't like sneaking around behind Sunstreaker's back but he told himself that his brother would thank him for it later...or so he hoped. He'd have to see eventually that it was the right thing to do. This was something too intriguing, too promising to ignore. Feeling minutely better about their delicate predicament, he skated off after his twin. "Hey, Sunny! Wait up!"

 **End of Chapter 8**


	9. Chapter 9

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 9**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! You're all looking lovely, as usual. I'm happy to be able to post another chapter for you today. I hope you've all been enjoying the story so far. Many, many thanks to all of you who have added this to your alerts and favorites. I'm so, so happy that you like it. Extra special thanks to those who've taken time to leave me a review, say hello, and provide feedback: The Whispering Sage, Knightnerd, adelphe24, KayleeChiara, Mywinx14, Edges05, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Pixiekatt, and 'Guest'. Thanks for the motivation!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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Sideswipe normally found himself quickly growing bored of strict, regimented routines. It was probably one of the reasons he and Sunstreaker found themselves in trouble more often than not. They simply weren't formatted for the type of quiet monotony most of the other bots thrived on and looked forward to. Never had been and never would be. He and Sunny loved a good thrill and, unfortunately, their main source of available stimulation was the battlefield. Suffice to say, their reputation as fierce, reckless frontline warriors owed just as much to their need for movement as it did their immense skill. In this case, however, he was glad that the object of his attention had adopted a mostly-consistent morning ritual. He wasn't going to complain because it certainly made his mission easier to be able to anticipate the femme's next move. He actually thought he had gotten a pretty good handle on her over the last few days.

She was up every morning by at least 0500 hours, sometimes earlier. He worried a bit about the amount of rest she was getting because she often didn't retire until usually after midnight. He knew this because the window to her room faced the parking area where he had been camping out in his alt mode for the last three nights and he could see her silhouette moving about behind the window shade. Each morning she would spend about thirty minutes in which he assumed she was getting herself dressed and doing whatever else it was humans did to get themselves ready for the day. She'd then emerge and make her way over to the chow hall- sans male companion- to eat breakfast. She'd be in and out in about twenty minutes. She'd then head on over to the designated bus stop where she'd wait for the base shuttle to pick her up and take her to the other side of the compound where she'd spend the rest of her day working with the Autobot's TIC.

Boring and predictable. Sideswipe chuckled to himself. He and Sunstreaker would change that.

Speaking of which, Sunny was none the wiser to his nightly absences since Prowl had put them on completely opposite security shifts in order to "maintain civility"...whatever that meant. Sides was always careful to be back in his berth before his twin came dragging home in the morning, tired and irritated. He hated keeping Sunny in the dark, especially about something with the potential to be this important, but with the mech fighting him every step of the way he didn't know what else to do. He figured that if he played his cards right he could gain the femme's interest while slowly bringing his brother into the fold, so to speak, before he caught wind of what was happening. By the time either party became aware of his ploy they'd be in too deep to just back out. Or so he hoped. There was always the possibility that Sunstreaker would beat the ever-living slag out of him or that the femme would freak out and run to some higher authority and get both of their afts welded to the brig floor permanently.

Sideswipe, though, was an optimist.

To say he was pleased when the femme pushed her way out through the barrack's doors and out into the early morning air right on time would have been an understatement. He'd already decided that today was going to be the day. He watched quietly from a distance as she hurried her way toward the chow hall. Once she'd disappeared into the second building, his engine rumbled to life and he pulled smoothly out of his hiding spot. The sleek form of the Lamborghini circled slowly around the block, coming to a stop between two buildings across from where she waited to board the base shuttle each day. One quick transformation later, Sideswipe was leaning casually against the side of one of the buildings where the car had once been, surprised to find that he was actually a little bit nervous.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Doe moved half-heartedly through the chow line. She wasn't really big on breakfast. She probably could have done without it but she'd learned a long time ago never to pass up a chance to eat. Sometimes you could never be sure where your next meal was coming from and there had been plenty of nights growing up when she'd gone to bed hungry wishing she'd had a slice of bread or even a simple glass of milk to quell the rumbling in her belly. She'd found out the hard way that just because someone was supposed to provide and care for you, didn't mean they would. Two years in the Navy with three square meals a day hadn't managed to convince her otherwise. She grabbed an English muffin and a packet of strawberry jam as well as a small bowl of sliced fruit and a cup of orange juice. She wouldn't starve today.

As she made her way over to the tables, she kept an eye out for Monroe. She hadn't seen him in the three days since his strange display when she'd ran into him on her quest for a pallet jack. The guy had looked scared out of his mind and more than a little ill. She had a feeling that more was going on with him than she was aware of but her brain either couldn't or wouldn't string the pieces together for her. She'd tried to check on him that evening when she'd made it back to the barracks but he didn't seem to be in his room. Either that or he was just outright ignoring her and refusing to open his door. She was a bit hurt at the notion but, regardless, she hoped he was alright. Resigned to the fact that she would be dining alone once again, she sighed and settled down at a table to eat.

She made quick work of her food and stood to return her tray and utensils to the scullery where they could be cleaned. She was actually pretty anxious to get to her post. For the first time since she'd arrived on the N.E.S.T. base she felt like she actually had a real job. Though 'The Dungeon' wasn't up and running just yet, she and Jazz did have a meeting with the Big Boss, as Jazz called him, to discuss his expectations and concerns for the project the two of them would be embarking on together. She wasn't going to lie. She'd been terrified at first. Optimus Prime was, for lack of a better word, enormous and it wouldn't have taken any effort at all on his part to turn her into a smear on the floor if he'd wanted to.

She'd quickly learned, however, why he was held in such high regard by his soldiers. He had a noble aura about him as well as a kind and gentle disposition that was, quite frankly, a bit disarming when you first met him. She'd overheard stories from some of the ground pounders around the base who'd seen the bots in action about the Autobot leader literally ripping other giant robots clean in two. With that image firmly ingrained into her imagination she certainly hadn't expected the guy to be so...nice. Half of the meeting was carried on between Optimus Prime and Jazz using that strange whirring, clicking language Doe heard every night in her dreams and still couldn't make heads or tails of. Prime had apologized to her profusely for not speaking in a language she could understand, citing unspecified security concerns that he was trying to rectify ASAP, assuming she'd perceive their use of their native tongue as a slight against her species. It had actually made her wonder what kinds of humans he was forced to deal with in the higher echelons of government on a daily basis that would even put such an idea in his mind. She assured him that wasn't the case and that she understood perfectly and wasn't offended in the least. He'd happily carried on from there, wishing to know more about what her specific duties had entailed at her previous duty station.

She, in turn, had provided him a brief overview of what all ship-based operations entailed. It wasn't for the faint of heart, as her chief would often say. It was a fast-paced, constant bombardment of information coming from every direction and demanded an extremely high level of attention to even the smallest detail. She explained that her particular duties had involved, among other things, maintaining an overall tactical picture of the ship's current surroundings by plotting and maintaining a visual representation of friendly, hostile, neutral, as well as civilian contacts. In doing so, she would be able to assist in the coordination of both secure and non-secure communications between the various entities. She fed the command and control a constant stream of ever changing tactical information as well as provided target plotting data and made recommendations regarding any associated tactical and combat procedures being carried out. It was a big job with even bigger consequences if it wasn't carried out properly.

Prime had seemed impressed. He had commended her on her exemplary service record and qualifications and reiterated how pleased he was to have her as a member of the team. It had seemed, he said, as though Jazz had chosen wisely. He'd then wanted to know whether or not she felt she'd be able to perform her duties on a much, much broader scale. Jazz had been on the sidelines like a cheerleader, assuring his leader that she was quite capable despite not having seen her in action. She'd agreed that she could do anything if she had the right equipment. Prime, in turn, had assured she and Jazz that the equipment situation was being dealt with in as an expedient way as was possible given their circumstances. They'd all agreed to meet up again in a week in order to review progress and go over any updates. In the meantime, she and Jazz were tasked with making 'The Dungeon' look like a functional workplace rather than something out of a horror movie.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Feeling more optimistic than she had since her transfer, she made her way out of the chow hall and headed off in the direction of the shuttle stop. It was still fairly early in the morning. The sun wasn't up yet but it's telltale glow just beneath the horizon was beginning to paint the Eastern sky a swath of warm pinks and oranges. It was pleasantly warm and a cool breeze blew in off the surrounding sea as Doe settled herself down on the bench to await her ride to work. She fiddled with the military ID clipped to her pocket and sighed, wishing she opted for coffee rather than orange juice this morning. She'd been spending each and every night since her arrival chasing after that elusive glow in her dreams and waking up feeling as if she'd been running a marathon. She could deal, though. There had been times during previous deployments in which she'd had to pull twenty-hour shifts with barely four hours in between to rest and recuperate. Still, she figured there was no harm in just closing her eyes for a moment while she waited for the shuttle.

"Good morning, pretty lady."

Doe's eyes snapped back open almost immediately at the sound of the smooth, masculine voice to find a pair of softly glowing, blue eyes/optics mere inches away from her face that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She instantly recognized them as belonging to the silver twin and with a startled gasp, she sat bolt upright, a hand going to her chest to try to still her rapidly pounding heart. "Jesus Christ..."

The mech chuckled and settled back on his haunches, giving her some space to breathe. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I was just in the neighborhood passing through. I saw you sitting over here all by yourself and thought I'd come over and say hello. So," he stuck out his hand in the greeting he'd saw humans use countless times. "Hi. My name is Sideswipe and it's my pleasure to properly make your acquaintance."

"Uh," Still confused, Doe looked dumbly from the mech's face to his outstretched hand.

"I by no means consider myself to be an expert on human customs," he gave her a lopsided grin, "But I'm pretty sure this is the part where you shake my hand and tell me your name."

"Oh," Doe seemed to snap out of her confused stupor. "Yeah, um, you're absolutely right." She returned his grin with a tentative smile of her own. "Sorry...I'm OS2 Doe."

With only a slight hesitation, she pressed her small hand into his much, much larger one and felt his fingers fold themselves gently around her's. She hadn't touched any of the Autobots, save when she'd touched Sideswipe that first night in his car form but she hadn't known any better then. At that time she'd been too concerned about the feeling of electricity passing through her body to really get a sense of what he'd felt like. Now, though, she was surprised to find that he didn't feel anything like what she expected, at least his hand didn't, not that she'd really contemplated it before now. There was still an almost electric feel where they touched which mimicked the feeling in her chest but it didn't hurt as it had that day. It was...nice and he certainly wasn't a cold lump of animated metal by any means. His hand was warm, probably a couple degrees warmer than her own, and possessed a strange, almost velvety smooth texture on the palm, despite the interlocking metal seams, that she couldn't really associate with any metal she was familiar with. The pads of his fingers, by contrast, were more rough as if calloused by time and hard work. She could feel a slight, rhythmic pulsation run through his hand and fingers, almost like a heartbeat. It was peculiar but certainly not unpleasant and after a long moment he finally released her hand and looked at her skeptically.

"Really?" He asked with a raised brow plate. "OS2? Thats all you're giving me? That's a job title, sparklet, not a name. Or at least I'm hoping your creators didn't slap that kind of designation on you. That would just be tragic."

"No," Doe's smile faltered. "They-they didn't." She shook her head and swallowed the lump that threatened to form in her throat. She recovered quickly, "My name is Amy, Amy Doe."

Sides hadn't missed the way her face had crumbled for a moment. He filed it away in the back of his processor for examination later. The goal today was to keep things light and friendly. Patience was key. Sparkling steps.

"Hmmm..." He hummed to himself and brought a hand up to his chin as if in deep thought over the information she had just provided. "Amy," he tried the name out. "Amy, Amy, Amy." He nodded to himself and grinned. "I like it. I think I'll call you...Ames."

Doe said nothing but raised an eyebrow in question.

Sideswipe pretended not to notice and flopped down onto the ground next to the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "So, Ames," He began casually, drawing out the 'S' in the new nickname he'd branded her with. "Do you come here often?" The horrible line had the desired effect and he was pleased with himself when the femme looked at him strangely and snorted softly in laughter.

"Here?" She questioned, "As in here at this bench?"

"Well, yeah." He rolled his optics as if his meaning should have been obvious. "Where else would I mean?"

"Right..." Amy shook her head and chuckled. The situation felt surreal but also strangely comfortable in a weird way that she couldn't have explained if someone paid her. Though, she did still have a nagging feeling that something was missing but she couldn't have told you what that was either. She decided to play along, "Yes, I do. I come here every day to catch the shuttle to the other side of the base. What about yourself?"

"Nope, never. This is my first time." His answer seemed to amuse her if the way she half-smiled and shook her head was any indication.

"Well, welcome aboard." She joked, "The more the merrier, I guess."

"That's pretty much my philosophy." Sideswipe's spark hummed happily along. This was good, he decided. Very good. He soldiered on. "They've got you working with Jazz, is that right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a nod. "That's right."

"You really lucked out on that one." Sideswipe admitted, "He's a good mech, not nearly as stuffy or stuck up and full of himself as some of the other bots around here and trust me, we've got a couple of real doozies. You got the good assignment."

"I haven't really talked to any one else to have an opinion about them but," Amy agreed, "Jazz seems like he's a pretty cool guy."

"He is...mostly." Sideswipe shrugged. "But I guess you can't really be mad at a guy for having to do his job once in a while, can you? I mean, he is the TIC but, Sunny and I like him...and if Sunny likes anyone that's a pretty big endorsement."

Doe raised a brow in question, "Sunny?"

"Sunstreaker," Sides perked up, sensing an opportunity. "He's my brother. I'm sure you've probably noticed him. You know, the shiny, brooding yellow guy with a permanent scowl? Strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare to cross his path?"

Amy couldn't help but laugh at the mech's description, "Yeah, I've seen him. He seems, uh, nice?"

Sides chuckled, "He really isn't that bad once you get to know him. Sunny's just...misunderstood. You didn't hear this from me but I'll let you in on a little secret," He leaned toward the woman and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Beneath all that high-gloss wax and bad attitude is the most loyal and devoted mech you'll ever meet and that's a fact. Just don't tell him I told you. He has an image to uphold."

"I'll take your word for it." Amy smiled, "His secret is safe with me. Jazz mentioned that you guys were twins?"

"Indeed we are," Sideswipe validated and then frowned. "It kind of sucks for Sunny, though."

"Oh," Amy questioned, "Why's that?"

"Because," the mech teased, "I obviously ended up with all the good looks and charm."

"Obviously," Amy chuckled and checked her watch. "I'm sure your brother would be thrilled to know you feel that way."

Sides winked at her, "I won't tell him if you won't. What time does the shuttle usually get here?"

Doe leaned forward a bit in order to look down the road. "It should be here any minute now."

"You know," Sideswipe offered, "I'd be more than happy to give you a ride. I'm going that direction anyway."

"No," Doe declined politely, "Thank you. I appreciate the offer but I really don't mind waiting for the shuttle."

"Are you sure?" The mech put on his most flirtatious look and leaned in close to the woman and purred, "I have a really, really nice car."

Amy felt her face heat as she sputtered, "I-I'm sure you do."

"If you ask nicely I might even let you shift the gears." Sides asked with a smirk, "Have you ever driven a Lamborghini? I promise you, it'll change your life forever."

"I, uh," Doe fidgeted, "No, no thanks. I'm good."

Sides breathed, "Are you sure?"

"No..." Amy's eyes widened, "Yes! I'm sure. I'll wait for the bus."

"Well," Sideswipe leaned away from her suddenly and vented dramatically, "You can't say I didn't offer." He stood slowly and stretched his limbs. "Just remember, when you're bouncing along in that bus, sitting on that hard, uncomfortable vinyl slab they call a seat that you could have been traveling in the lap of luxury. I don't mean to brag but, my seats put Italian leather to shame." He grinned cheekily, "Just something for you to think about."

Amy opened her mouth to respond but nothing wanted to come out. He'd managed to get her quite flustered very quickly. She had no idea what was going on. He thrown her completely for a loop. She was positive that her face was probably bright red, she could feel her ears burning, and her chest was buzzing like a beehive. The worst part was that she couldn't decide if he was genuinely flirting with her or simply trying to get a rise out of her like the mischief maker he was rumored to be. Each thought was equally mortifying.

"Anyway," Sideswipe continued, "I guess if you're not in need of my services I should probably be getting back. Sunny will be getting off duty soon and someone has to be there to listen to him complain about being on security detail or it ruins his whole day. It was lovely talking to you, Ames." The mech leveled his gaze on the woman and smiled, extending his and once again in farewell.

Not knowing what else to do, Amy allowed the mech to take her hand into his own once again. Instead of enveloping in in a friendly shake as he had before, he took care only to gently grasp her fingers before bowing his head and pressing the plates of his mouth against her knuckles. He lingered there a moment, long enough for her to feel the intermittent rush of warm air from whatever passed as his respiratory/ventilation system wash over her hand and wrist. It caused her own breath to catch in her throat and the feeling in her chest to churn restlessly.

He released her hand after a long moment and raised his head, winking at the flushed woman and flashing her an impish grin, "Till we meet again."

Doe watched, a bit in awe, as he gracefully spun away from her before taking off down the street like he was an Olympic speed skater. He was gone just as quickly as he'd appeared. Doe stared off in the direction he'd went, completely dumbfounded as to what had just happened. Her mind didn't seem to be able to string together a coherent thought and she could have sworn she had an electrical storm brewing behind her rib cage. It wasn't until the shuttle bus pulled to a stop in front of her that she was finally able to regain some of her focus.

Doe shook her head to clear it and rose from the bench where she sat. As she boarded the bus to head off to another day of playing house with Jazz, she couldn't help but ponder the one question that kept looping through her mind. "What the hell just happened?"

 **End of Chapter 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 10**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a fantastic day. I'm very happy to be bringing you another chapter today. I'd like to send a huge thank you to everyone who had added this story to their alerts and favorites. Extra special thanks to all of you that have taken the time to review: The Whispering Sage, adelphe24, Edges05 (x2), Pixiekatt, wolfimus prime, Darkheart126, Watto not, Knightnerd, Mysine, Guest, AshelyOfChaos, Leonixon, and the everchanging. I truly do value your feedback and I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying the story! Here's a nice, long chapter to thank you for your patience. It chocked full of irrationally jealous Sunny, scheming mega-dork Sides, confused as all Hell Doe, as well as other essential vitamins and minerals!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Something definitely wasn't right here.

That was the one thought on Sunstreaker's mind as he sat on his berth meticulously buffing and polishing his armor back to its bright, shiny glow after a long night of patrolling the dirtiest, grittiest areas of the island with the Autobot's SIC as punishment for whatever it was he'd done to grind Prowl's gears this time. For once though, his spark simply wasn't in it. He was irritated, more so than usual, and perhaps even a bit angry as the deep scowl on his face plates could attest. As he worked, his optics couldn't help but wander to the other side of the berth room he shared with his brother. Sideswipe was there, as he was every time he returned from patrol, splayed across his berth playing some stupid human shooter game on a data pad. It certainly wasn't anything extraordinary or unusual. To be honest, Sides hadn't really done anything as of late to warrant his suspicion or general malice. Quite the opposite, in fact, but there was something about the mech's general demeanor over the last several days, though, that had raised the alarm in the back of Sunstreaker's processor.

Sunstreaker studied his brother, trying to put a finger on what it was that bothered him so much. His twin lay there, unassuming, humming some generic, happy, human pop song. His fingers tapped, tapped, tapped a staccato rhythm on the data pad as he shot down aliens or zombies or whatever the Pit it was he was supposed to be killing. Typical Sideswipe. Actions Sunstreaker would normally find oddly endearing yet ultimately annoying but not so much as to warrant such a visceral, hair trigger response. Instead of annoyance, however, he was consumed with the feeling that he was deliberately being left out of something important. Even more irritating, he knew his brother was making him feel that way on purpose. He and Sides shared literally everything and there was no doubt in his processor that the mech was trying to bait him for some reason by holding out on him. It wasn't a pleasant feeling in any sense and, like it or not, it really was starting to get to him no matter how hard he tried to act like it wasn't.

Sunstreaker's scowl deepened and he forced himself to refocus on his paint job. There was only one reason he could think of offhand that would drive his brother to behave in such a manner. It had to have something to do with his ridiculous obsession with the human femme. He was more than certain that had to be it because the mech had more or less dropped the subject altogether after their last go round about her. That in itself should have been a giant red flag. It wasn't like Sideswipe to abandon an interest so readily and a sick feeling in the bottom of Sunstreaker's tank told him that Sides' fascination with the femme was very much alive and well.

Sunny wasn't sure if he was more disturbed by the fact he couldn't muster up enough disgust over the so-called 'human situation' to stamp out the curiosity he felt or that he actually, though he'd never admit it, felt the tiniest twinge of jealously at being left out of whatever was going on between Sideswipe and the squishie...even if it was just so that he could rant and rave against it. He shook his head and grunted in irritation. This is exactly what Sides wanted, he knew. He wanted him all twisted up in knots, obsessing, dying to know what was happening, begging for inclusion. Well, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Nope. Never. Not in a million years. He would never be _that_ mech.

"Something on your processor, oh brother of mine?"

"What?" Sunstreaker snapped back to the present only to realize his twin was now sitting up on the side of his berth, data pad forgotten, and gazing amusedly in his direction.

Sides smirked, "I asked if there was anything bothering you."

"No," Sunstreaker replied venomously. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh," Sideswipe shrugged, "No reason. Just that you've been polishing that same spot on your leg for the last thirty minutes. Wax looks a little thick, if you ask me."

Sunstreaker's optics darted down to where his brother indicated and he cursed eloquently. Sure enough, he'd been slathering the plating on his thigh in high gloss wax over and over again for the better part of a half hour. An irritated growl worked its way out from between his clenched denta. He quickly reached for a buffing pad and tried to even out the mess he'd made.

Sideswipe chuckled and rose from his berth. He stretched, arms above his head, reaching for the ceiling, causing the struts in his back to pop and eliciting a sigh of satisfaction from his vocalizer. Without a word, he crossed the small room and began to rummage through the shelf where Sunny kept his cleaning supplies. Finding what he was looking for, he crossed back over to where his brother still sat muttering and cursing under his breath. "Here, Sunny."

Sunstreaker looked up, optics narrowed at his twin and a sharp retort on the tip of his glossa, before realizing the mech was indeed trying to help. Something was definitely amiss. With a reluctant "thanks", he took the offered bar of detailing clay and bottle of clay lubricant from his brother's outstretched hands. Dousing his leg with the lubricant, he began the task of using the bar of clay to remove the excess buildup of wax. Out of the corner of his optic, he caught a quick glance of the smug look on Sides' face before the mech retreated back to his side of the room, resuming his obnoxious humming and booting up his data pad.

Sunstreaker worked in silence for a moment, scrubbing the clay over his leg plating in quiet contemplation. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was playing right into Sides' scheme, whatever that was. It was incredibly hard to remain passive when you literally shared a life force with someone. If his brother thought he was going show him up that easily he was in for a big surprise. If only he could shake that unsettling feeling of exclusion he just might be able to think straight. He had to know. Unable to stand it any longer, Sunstreaker slammed the waxing supplies down onto his berth, startling the other mech in the room.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe raised his head, mock concern etched on his faceplates. "Is everything alright?"

"What is it you're playing at Sides?"

Sunny's tone was dark and would have sent nearly anyone else running for cover but Sideswipe knew his brother too well and decided to have a bit of fun at his expense and feign ignorance. He smirked. "This?" He gestured to the data pad. "It's an old classic human game called Astro Panic."

"Don't play dumb, glitch head." Sunny snarled, "You know what I'm talking about."

"I honestly have no clue." Sideswipe tossed the data pad aside and sat back up. "Want to elaborate?"

Sunstreaker could feel his internal temperature rising. "Its that human isn't it?"

"Human?" Sides pretended to contemplate for a moment. "I know a lot of humans. Which one are you referring to?"

"Cut the slag, fragger!" Sunny rose from his berth, fists clenched at his sides. "You know which one!"

"Oh!" Sideswipe acted surprised, as if the answer had suddenly come to him. "You must mean Ames, right?"

Sunny blinked, "Ames?"

"Yeah," Sides grinned and nodded. "Her name is Amy but I like to call her Ames. She doesn't seem to mind. What about her?"

"She...you..." Sunstreaker shook his head, trying to dispel the urge to throttle his twin. "You've been talking to her?"

"Well, yeah." Sideswipe looked at his brother like he couldn't believe he'd asked such a stupid question. "That is how you get to know someone new, Sunny. You have to talk to them. It's how relationships and friendships are made. It's a beautiful thing. You should try it sometime."

"You mis-clocked piece of scrap! Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Sunstreaker felt himself trembling. "How long has this been going on? I can't believe you'd go behind my back and do something like this after I specifically told you to stay the frag away from her!"

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm spending time with a lovely femme. We've been chatting for about a week," Sides answered as-a-matter-of-factly. "And you didn't tell me to stay away from her. You're exact words were to keep it to myself. So, that's what I've been doing...keeping her all to myself." Sideswipe could tell that his brother was livid. He also knew that if he were anyone else, he'd already be a pile of scrap on the berth room floor. Luckily, he knew just how far he could push his twin and couldn't resist one final jab. "I have to admit, it's kind of nice not having to share with you for once. I'm enjoying all the _extra_ attention."

For once, Sunstreaker found himself struck speechless. Sure, he was pissed at his twin beyond his ability to articulate but there was also a stab of hurt coupled with an acute twist of jealousy. The former emotion he was perfectly familiar with, the latter two not so much. In the back of his processor, he knew Sides was playing with him but they were twins for the love of Primus! Despite all his bravado and protestations to the contrary, Sunstreaker knew his brother was right. It didn't work that way. It went against the very nature of their creation for one to hold out against the other, especially in a situation were there was a potential for emotions to become involved. It was why he wanted Sideswipe to give up on this insanity in the first place. It was about self-preservation...for the both of them. Where one went, the other had no choice but to go as well and it was plainly obvious to the mech that his brother was dragging them down a path that would ultimately, as it always did, end in sparkache. It was a precarious situation, at best, with absolutely no hope of working out for the better. He wasn't going that route without a fight, especially not over some squishy organic who didn't have a clue as to the scope and breadth of the situation.

"As if I'd want any part in your repulsive experimentation." Sunstreaker snarled, "You can keep that greasy, flesh bag to yourself."

"Good. I'm glad you feel that way." Sides smirked, "I intend to."

"Good," Sunny snapped as he marched over to the door. "Just don't come crying to me when it all goes to the Pit."

"Don't worry," Sideswipe teased, "I won't. We'll make sure to send you an invitation to the bonding ceremony, though. I wouldn't want you to miss it. I'm sure our future sparklings will adore their Uncle Sunny."

Sunstreaker recoiled. "You're disgusting," he spat as he wrenched the door open. "I hope you rust."

Sideswipe watched in amused delight as his brother stomped his way out of the room and slammed the door behind him hard enough to cause the walls to rattle. A deep chuckle rumbled its way out of the mech's chassis and he sank back into his berth. He stretched out, hands behind his head, basking in his sense of accomplishment. "Sunny, Sunny, Sunny," he sighed. "I love you but you're too easy. That didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy Doe sighed as she stepped out of the freight elevator and into the evening air. She and Jazz had worked longer than usual today and already the moon hung high in the sky and stars were glittering beautifully above. Doe took a moment just to take it all in. Despite being a usually face-paced military installation, Diego Garcia seemed peaceful this night and for that Amy was grateful. She had finally made it to the end of what had been a very strange and hectic week and was looking forward to having two days duty free to sort through her thoughts and get her head back on straight. The shuffling noise behind her caught her attention and she couldn't help but smile a bit as Jazz limped over to gaze up at the sky along side her.

"Guess we were down there longer than I thought," the mech remarked as he studied the stars. "It's a beautiful night."

"It is," Amy agreed. Normally, she had trouble getting close to people and making friends. Being constantly shuffled around from place to place all her life hadn't really helped her social skills any but she could readily admit that she'd grown very fond of Jazz in the short time they'd worked together. The mech's upbeat attitude and flair for the stylish tended to make even the most tedious and menial of tasks enjoyable. He seemed to be a genuinely good person -alien- and treated her more like an equal than a subordinate. The situation she'd found herself in had taken some getting used to but she was beginning to think that Sideswipe had been right in his assessment. She had got the good assignment.

Speaking of Sideswipe, that was a head scratcher if there ever was one. She wasn't sure what exactly was happening but over the last week, the mech had seemed to conveniently pop up wherever she went and each and every time they crossed paths he left her blushing more often than not. Despite that, she actually kind of looked forward to their little run-ins, wondering where they'd bump into each other next. It was weird how normal their peculiar interactions had started to feel in such a short time. There was something about the mech that she found oddly comforting, reassuring even. When he was around the strange buzzing in her chest, that she kept swearing she was going to see a doctor for, would taper off into a pleasant tingle. Though, it still felt oddly as if something were missing but what about her situation wasn't odd?

The mech seemed to take delight in the way she responded to his corny pick-up lines and over-the-top, shameless flirting which she still wasn't sure was genuine or for his own amusement. Either way, she was afraid to ask. The latest incident earlier in the day had been no exception. It had been a tiring morning full of dealing with architects and contractors who were being given the task of bringing 'The Dungeon' up to code. She had absolutely no experience with things of that nature but Jazz had insisted she'd be just fine on her own since Ratchet was holding him hostage in the med bay for another battery of diagnostics and tests. She'd eventually managed to drag herself out of a planning meeting, feeling completely overwhelmed, and was trudging her way over to the chow hall in the middle of the lunch rush when the silver mech skated up to her seemingly out of no where.

"Hey, sweetspark!"

Amy cringed internally. Sideswipe's joyful exclamation had drawn the attention of the crowd of military personnel surrounding her waiting to get into the chow hall. She could, quite literally, feel all of their eyes on her when they realized the mech had been addressing her. She wasn't used to that sort of attention. Still, she took a little comfort in his presence. She gave him a weary smile, "Hi, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe had skated circles around her, as if inspecting her from every angle before commenting, "You look tired. Busy morning?"

Amy sighed. It had been a busy morning but that wasn't the only reason she was feeling worn down. Her strange dream still persisted every night and always left her feeling exhausted in the morning no matter how many hours of sleep she managed to get. "Yeah, you could say that. I was acting as stand-in for Jazz at the planning meeting this morning."

The mechs faceplates scrunched up. "That sounds boring."

"I wouldn't know," Amy remarked dully. "I have no idea what was going on. I'm an Operations Specialist, not an expert in architectural engineering. I was totally out of my element."

Sides chuckled, "Well, I know Jazz and he wouldn't have sent you in there if he didn't think you could hold your own. I have confidence in your abilities."

"Thanks, I guess." Doe gave him a sidelong look as he continued to skate around her in lazy circles. "I'm glad someone does."

"Aw, cheer up, Ames." Sideswipe shot her a crooked grin. "You're doing a great job."

"If you say so," she sighed.

"I do. Hey," Sides smirked, "I bet I know something that will make you feel better."

Amy raised a brow. "What's that?"

The mech innocently asked, "Do you like poetry?"

Doe snorted, "Poetry?"

"Yeah, poetry." Sides nodded. "Do you like it or not?"

"Sure," Amy agreed, "I like it..." No sooner had the words had left her mouth, Doe knew she'd made a terrible mistake when a mischievous look washed over the mech's face. She felt the color drain out of her own, "Oh, no..."

"Oh, yes," Sides confirmed with a wicked grin. He stopped skating around the woman and dropped down onto his knees in front of her, once again drawing the attention of the crowd around them. With an exaggerated flourish, he reached for her with one hand, grabbing her by the wrist and gently tugged her closer. His other hand pressed against his chest plates in an extravagant show of devotion as he began, with an overly dramatic air, to quote Percy Shelley.

"The fountains mingle with the river,

And the rivers with the ocean;

The winds of heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In another's being mingle-

Why not I with thine?"

Amy could feel her face blazing with heat. The mech's gaze was locked onto her own and as desperately as she wanted to, she couldn't force herself to look away. Neither could anyone else, apparently. The lunch line had come to a complete stand still and every curious eye was looking in their direction. Amy briefly wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole but Sides wasn't finished yet.

"See, the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister flower could be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea;-

What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me."

Sideswipe finished his production in grand theatrical style by grasping both of Amy's hands and pulling her in close enough that he was able to bend slightly and press his forehead against her own, causing her cover to shift and sit comically askew atop her head. The stunned woman easily complied and Sides had almost felt bad for the public display since he got the feeling from her that she didn't like being the center of anyone's attention. Seeing the delightful red color rush to her cheeks, however, convinced him it was worth it. A smattering of applause from the gathered crowd drew his attention briefly away from the femme and he pulled back just enough to turn and give them a sloppy salute. "Thank you," he chuckled. "Thank you very much. See," he nudged the woman, "They enjoyed it."

Doe didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was finding it hard to regain coherent thought, let alone give him a response. The only thing that kept circling through her brain was that a giant, alien robot had just got down onto his knees and recited her a love poem. In public. Things like this didn't happen. Ever. To anyone. To anyone but her, apparently, and she wasn't sure what the expected protocol was. There was no SOP to tell you what to do in the event visitors from outer space decided to take an unexpected and unsolicited interest in you. She'd looked.

The electricity lodged behind her breast bone was a hot, writhing mess now and she was certain all the blood in her body was currently coloring her face. With great concentration, she finally managed to get her mouth to work. "Sideswipe, what-?"

"You're welcome." The mech cut her off with an impish grin. "Now stop being so hard on yourself, alright?"

Doe could only nod in agreement.

"Good," Sides' grin widened slightly before he grew serious and seemed to zone out for a brief moment before coming back to himself. He huffed, "Slag...sorry, Ames. I gotta run. Prowl is comming me wondering where I am. I was supposed to report for security detail ten minutes ago but I wanted to see you first."

Amy wasn't given a chance to even respond before the mech leaned in and pressed his forehead against her's once again, this time knocking her hat completely off her head. He lingered for a moment and it gave her time again to wonder at how warm and alive he felt despite how far he was from being human. It was fascinating, really, if she had the mind to truly appreciate it at the time. Before she could even fully grasp what was happening, he was pulling away from her and rising back to his feet/wheels to tower over her once again. He gave a wink and a gentlemanly bow before suddenly seeming to fold in upon himself.

She watched in awe, her heart pounding, as pieces of his body intricately shifted and realigned themselves into new configurations, compacting upon one another until a perfect shiny, silver Lamborghini sat in the place where he had once stood. If she hadn't have seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed such a thing was possible. He drove away, leaving her to stare after him until he turned the corner and disappeared at the end of the block. Her mind raced, trying to figure out why it seemed he'd singled her out, even as the feeling in her chest fizzled. She wished to God she knew what his deal was.

The murmuring of the lunch line around her had finally brought her back to the present. She realized, self-consciously, that many were still looking in her direction curiously, whispering, speculating on what it was they'd just witnessed. She felt herself blushing anew and quickly bent to retrieve her cover from the ground. She put it back on, pulling the brim down much lower over her eyes than military regs approved of, and made a fast escape back in the direction of the barracks. She had a couple granola bars in her locker back in her room. They would have to do for lunch because there was no way in Hell she was going into the chow hall today.

"Hey, you alright down there?"

The softly spoken question brought Amy back to where she stood outside of the freight elevator. She looked up to find Jazz looking back down at her in concern. She nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. It's just been a really long day, is all. Nothing a good sleep won't fix."

Jazz hummed, not seeming entirely convinced. "You sure? I know this whole 'Robot War on Earth' thing is a lot to take in. If there's anything you want to talk about, just know I'm a really good listener. I don't want you goin' and stressin' out on me. Anythin' you say would stay just between the two of us."

Doe contemplated his offer for a moment. It was tempting. If anyone could offer any insight into what was going on inside an alien robot's computer brain, it would have to be another alien robot. It's just...she didn't know how to do that whole sharing your problems with another person thing. She'd had to learn the hard way that the only person she was able to rely on was herself. She had no doubt that Jazz's intentions were good, she just wouldn't even know where to start. She shook her head, "No. Everything is fine. Really."

"Alright," Jazz looked skeptical but relented. "The offer always stands."

"Thanks," Doe smiled, genuinely grateful. "I appreciate it."

"Come on," Jazz gestured, "I'll walk you to the bus stop. I'd offer to take you myself but..."

"Oh, no," Amy laughed, "And bring the wrath of Ratchet down upon us both? I think not." She started to take off after the shuffling mech but then thought better of it. "Um, Jazz, you know what?"

Jazz paused, turning back to look down at her, brow plate raised in concern. "'Something wrong?"

"Well, no." Doe fidgeted. "It's just a really nice night. I think I might like to walk back instead. Get some fresh air, you know?"

Slightly worried, Jazz frowned. "That's like a forty-five minute walk."

"Yeah," Amy acknowledged. "I know, but I've been down in the bunker all day, running back and forth, cooped up in planning meetings. It would be nice to spend some time outside just enjoying the breeze."

"You do have a point," the mech chuckled. "If you change your mind, though, call me. I don't care if you're a block away from the barracks. I'll send someone out to pick you up, alright?"

Doe smiled. "Thanks, Jazz, but I don't think that'll be necessary."

"I'm just saying," Jazz winked at her, one side of his visor dimming with the action, "I take care of mine and we're partners in crime now, like it or not. I'm not gonna leave ya hangin'."

Doe felt herself warm and her eyes begin to water at the mech's proclamation. Never, not once in her life, had anyone ever really wanted her let alone express such a sentiment out loud. She knew Jazz probably just meant it as lighthearted reassurance but she could tell he was sincere and so took the words to heart. She quickly blinked away the moisture from her eyes and gave him a watery smile, "Goodnight, Jazz."

"Night, D." Jazz watched the femme leave with an inkling of concern fluttering about in his spark. He cared for the femme, he truly did. She was a really good kid, smart, but he could tell she hadn't had the easiest of lives. She didn't really talk about her life or family prior to enlisting in the navy but he could see it in the way she carried herself, the way she walked, the way she talked. Something had happened to her somewhere along the line that had affected her deeply. Sure, Jazz knew he could have easily dug up the information if he wanted to, but he wanted the femme to trust him. He figured she would let him in if and when she was ready. In the meantime, though, he'd make sure she knew he hadn't been kidding around. He did take care of his own and he wasn't going to leave her hanging.

 **End of Chapter 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 11**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I thought in this chapter it might be nice to get a tiny peak at our OS2's past...a very tiny peak. More info will be forthcoming as she decides to share it. We'll also learn that even the best laid plans can have unintended and sometimes catastrophic consequences, as Sides will learn in the next chapter after Sunny has his way in this one. Anyway...as always I'd like to send a heartfelt thanks to all of you who have added this story to your follows and favorites. I can't tell you how excited it makes me that you're enjoying the story. Extra special love to those who took their time to review: HenriettaDarlington, jojoniles, Mywinx14, Guest, adelphe24, sakurawriter, Til' all are one, Edges05. You're awesome!**

 **Oh, and this is something I found that I thought was hysterical and thought I'd share! I found a review for the Lamborghini Aventador online and it says, in part, that the car is "brutally powerful and obscenely flamboyant, the Aventador is unburdened by reality". Obscenely flamboyant and unburdened by reality. I love that so much, lol!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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It really was a nice night. Doe decided she'd made the right decision to walk as she meandered across the base in the direction of the barracks. She breathed deeply, drawing the salty ocean air deep into her lungs before blowing it out again slowly. She found that when she had a lot on her mind, sorting it all out was often easier out under the open sky. The stars, what she could see of them with the base lighting obscuring the view, were beautiful. That was one thing she definitely missed about shipboard life. Every night after flight ops were wrapped and they'd called 'darken ship', she liked to venture out out to the port catwalk, lean on the railing and just gaze at the stars, duty schedule permitting. Between the millions of lights twinkling overhead and the roll of the ocean beneath her feet, she could feel her thoughts slow and just let the peace wash over her. Unfortunately, that was an option no longer available to her.

Being transferred to Diego Garcia and discovering that rumors of robotic aliens locked in a war with one another were, in fact, true had overloaded her mind to the point where she hadn't had time to think much about anything else than figuring out exactly what was expected of her in her new role. It honestly had been a small blessing. Now that she was starting her fourth week at N.E.S.T. and had had some time to wrap her brain around her situation and was getting more or less into a routine, hectic as it was, she was finding it harder to keep her thoughts from wandering during her down time. It had helped her some to adjust to her new environment by having someone else in similar situation to talk to when she'd first arrived but Monroe was still actively avoiding her like she had the plague. She wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve the cold shoulder but she wouldn't have felt comfortable talking to him about what was on her mind anyway. She didn't know him, not like that, and was fairly sure they didn't share the same issue currently.

The only other person she could really think of that she could talk to was Jazz, but she had shot down his offer to lend an ear as fast as he'd offered. She liked the mech. She really did. Despite their differences, she could tell he was genuine but she wanted the mech to honestly like her, too, not just pity her because she was some kind of throwaway that no one wanted. She knew talking led to questions and the answers weren't really something she wanted to think about right now. She'd had to pour out her sob story to more social workers and court appointed counselors over the years than she could count and the one thing she could never stomach was the pity in their eyes after she'd had to narrate for the millionth time how she didn't know who her parents were and that it had been the nurses at the hospital where she'd eventually ended up as a premature infant, barely clinging to life, who'd been the ones to finally take the initiative and name her something other than 'Baby Doe'. She didn't want to see that look from anyone else if she could help it. She'd never shared her story with any of her fellow crewman and she wasn't about to start now. She certainly didn't need aliens feeling sorry for her.

She could maybe, maybe, talk to Jazz about the enigma that was Sideswipe without delving too deep into herself but she wouldn't even know what to say or where to start. She wasn't good at that sort of thing. Whatever was going on had to have something to do with the teeth-rattling shock he'd given her when she'd unassumingly touched him that very first time. She was pretty sure of it. She was also pretty sure that she really, really needed to see a doctor about it. If nothing else they might be able to give her something to help her sleep. If Sideswipe's antics didn't cause her to die from embarrassment, she was pretty sure her repetitive, wild goose chase of a dream would have her dropping over from exhaustion sooner or later.

She'd briefly considered the possibility that it was all some kind of weird alien scientific experiment and that Sideswipe had been tasked with studying the after effects. To what end, though, she couldn't say. It had been a while since she'd had to use the Scientific Method in practice but she was sure none of the steps included love poems and blatant flirtation. She'd also considered that he may just be using her for entertainment purposes since she had overheard from various sources unfortunate enough to get caught up in one of his schemes that the mech was a notorious and mischievous prankster. She was pretty sure she'd feel horrible if that were the case but she could have sucked it up and carried on just as she'd had to do many times before and count herself blessed that he'd not decided to tar and feather her as he'd done a recharging Ironhide a week or two prior to her arrival. The only other possibility, that he may actually be serious, was something she didn't even attempt to consider with any seriousness. It was laughable, really. That didn't make it any less distracting, however.

She just didn't want to assume or offend anyone or, even worse, find herself in the middle of some alien cultural faux pas. She'd come here to work, to do the job she'd been assigned. It didn't matter if half the things Jazz was asking her to do were completely outside her professional scope. She'd overcome worse odds and hadn't ended up as just another statistic. She'd overcome whatever was going on with Sideswipe, as well. She'd just do what she did when faced with any other difficulty she'd stumbled across, grin and bear it and hope it all blowed over. And pray it worked.

Amy chastised herself for her dark thoughts. This was supposed to be a walk to clear her head after a trying and difficult day, not a rehash of all her life's woes. She suddenly realized she'd been so caught up that she hadn't even been paying attention to where she was going. She paused for a second to reorient herself. She'd been so distracted that she'd wandered slightly off her path. She'd gone a good block and a half beyond where she should have turned to get back to the barracks. She'd been down this way only once before on the bus to go to the small base PX to buy some toothpaste and a pack of ink pens but she didn't feel confident enough in her sense of direction, alone, in the dark, in a still-new place, to venture any farther on foot. With an amused chuckle at her own flakiness, she did a smooth about face and began to trek back in the opposite direction.

She'd gone half a block back up to the nearest intersection, she took a moment to glance up at the cloudless night sky and just enjoy the quiet, when the sudden squall of tires on asphalt and the angry roar of an engine shattered the peace. Doe wasn't sure which was more terrifying when her head jerked in the direction of the commotion, the deafening sound or the fact that the yellow Aventador came careening around the corner and toward where she stood paralyzed in fear so fast that she was sure it was going to plow right over her before it could skid to a stop at the curb. She'd closed her eyes, the only part of her body she could force to move, and braced herself for impact. It never came.

"Get in." The voice was deep, dark, and tight with tension. It was loud over the angry rumbling of the engine and didn't sound as though it would take 'no' for an answer.

Amy cracked her eyes open, surprised to still be alive and intact, and immediately wished she hadn't. She instantly recognized Sideswipe's twin, Sunstreaker, and though she was thankful not to be a smear across the sidewalk, that fate was probably preferable to what ever awaited inside the car. She could literally feel the heat and anger rolling off the Lamborghini's sleek frame in waves. The very last thing she wanted to do was climb inside. Her chest felt like it was about to explode with electricity and a wave of dizziness washed over her momentarily causing the world to swim and tilt before coming back into focus. She finally managed to open her mouth, her tongue like sandpaper, and forced out a quivering, "N-no thank you...l-I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking you, Squishie," Sunstreaker snarled. "I'm telling you. Get. In. Now."

"I, uh," Amy floundered, looking for some path of escape. Walking suddenly seemed like a very, very bad idea and she wished she had taken Jazz up on his offer to find her a ride. She could feel the weight of her phone in her back pocket. She briefly wondered at her chances of fishing it out and calling the mech for help while running for her life. An impatient growl from the car's engine told her she was running out of time. She stammered, hoping to delay, "Wh-why?"

"You don't get to ask questions," the mech snapped. "I'm giving you two options. Either get in now, on your own, before you really piss me off or I can put you inside myself. I don't think you'll like option two. Now, get in."

"O-Okay..." Terrified, Doe swallowed and nodded her head. Even though it seemed like a very bad idea, perhaps the worst she'd ever had, she hesitantly inched toward the car, not wanting to anger it any further. With trembling fingers, she reached for the door handle.

"Do not touch!" Sunstreaker bellowed causing the woman to reel backwards a couple steps in fear. He popped the door open. "I don't want your greasy, little fingers smearing oil all over my finish. Get in and keep your filthy hands to yourself."

On shaking legs, Amy took a couple shuffling steps back toward the idling vehicle. Feeling as though she wanted to burst into tears, she carefully maneuvered herself into the driver's seat, careful to avoid any contact with the door or frame for fear of making her situation worse. Once seated, the car door slammed down so hard that it caused her to yelp and instinctively make a grab for the steering wheel. As she did so, a blue-white arc of electricity passed between them. The sensation ripped a pained shriek from her throat and caused her vision to dim. Her hands went numb for a moment before sensation rushed back into them in the form of an uncomfortable, burning tingle. Just as with her first encounter with the other twin, the feeling crept agonizingly slow up her arms to settle in her chest.

The feeling suddenly bloomed in Doe's chest in an agonizing heat and for a moment she was certain that she was being burned alive from the inside out. The intensity stole her breath and she couldn't even draw enough breath into her lungs to scream. Then, as suddenly as the pain had come, it fizzled out just as abruptly leaving her with a subtle, buzzing throb that matched the frantic beating of her heart. In the background of static in her mind, she became aware of a repetitive blaring cacophony of noise. It took her a moment to think coherently enough to figure out that it was the Lamborghini's alarm system. About the same time she was able to identify it, it cut out in a strangled squawk.

"Fragging, bit-brained Squishie!" Sunstreaker raged, "I told you not to touch anything!"

"I'm sor-RAH!" Amy didn't get a chance to finish her tearful apology before the Lamborghini peeled away from the curb in a cloud of burnt rubber. It was fast, faster than any car she'd ever ridden in and she found herself pressed back into the driver's seat as the car tore down the street at a breakneck speed. She realized with ever increasing horror that they were heading away from the base proper in a direction she'd never gone before. It wasn't long at all before they came upon the perimeter fence. For one brief, horrifying moment, she expected them to go crashing right though it. Instead, the mech made a hard right, causing her to be thrown roughly into the driver's door.

"Primus," Sunstreaker growled. "Put your fragging seat belt on!"

Doe tearfully protested, "You told me not to touch anything!"

"And now I'm telling you to put your slagging seatbelt on, Squishie!" Sunstreaker snarled, "By the Celestial Spires, I swear I'm going to murder Sideswipe. That slag-sucking scrap for brains has completely fragged us this time..."

Amy fumbled for the seatbelt, clicking it into place, all the while listening to the mech spit and curse, raving on about all the ways he intended to do his brother bodily harm once he got his hands on him. She couldn't recall ever being more frightened than she was at that very moment. She had no idea what she'd done to invoke Sunstreaker's wrath but to hear him speak one would think she'd just signed his death warrant. She watched with growing dread as they turned onto a worn part off the main road that ran alongside the airstrip and the car finally began to decelerate. Her heart felt like it was trying to push its way out through her throat as they eventually rolled to a complete stop along the sandy coastline.

The Lamborghini's engine cut off suddenly as did Sunstreaker's cursing, leaving the pair in near silence except for the intermittent ticking of cooling metal and the rhythmic rushing of water against the beach. For one blissful moment, Doe thought he may have forgotten her presence altogether for a moment. Luck, however, wasn't on her side in that regard. When was it ever?

"Get out, Squishie." The words were flat, almost monotone in comparison to the mech's earlier rantings.

Doe was more than happy to comply, though. She scrambled out and away from the vehicle as soon as the door popped open, stumbling slightly as the sand beneath her boots shifted and falling to her knees in her haste to get away. Her wide eyes searched up and down the beach and she was disheartened to see that there wasn't any sign of another living being in sight. She did spy a small rock cropping a few yards away and quickly crawled towards them, pressing herself as tightly to their rough surface as she could in a vain attempt at blending in with the scenery. She hoped the worst was over but the sound of the mech finally transforming into his bipedal form told her otherwise.

Sunstreaker glowered in her direction, his sharp, blue optics seeming to appraise her only to find her sorely lacking. He snorted, disbelieving, and began to pace. When he finally spoke, every word he uttered seemed to drip with annoyance and revulsion. "Do you have any idea what a glitched up mess you've made, Squishie?"

Doe, trembling, shook her head in the negative, "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Of course you don't!" The mech snarled, "You're just like everything else on this Primus forsaken planet! And make no mistake," he paused in his pacing long enough to jab a finger in her face, "I despise this planet."

"I'm," Doe stuttered, "I'm s-sorry..."

"You should be," Sunstreaker glared at the woman taking in her wide, frightened eyes and the hot tears running down her cheeks. He snorted, disgust plainly visible on his faceplates. "This has to be some kind of sick joke. Look at you...small and mushy, leaking everywhere. How can you stand yourself? It's revolting."

The mech' harsh words caused Doe to cry harder. It wasn't the first time she'd heard such venom spit in her direction. She'd been on the receiving end of such condemnation in one form or another most of her life. Hearing such disparaging remarks from Sunstreaker, though, cut deeper than any she could remember. She felt something inside of her chest twist, seeming to wind up tightly before snapping. The pain that followed, she couldn't even classify it as a physical sensation. It went deeper than that. The mech seemed oblivious, though.

Sunstreaker demanded, "Did Sideswipe put you up to this?"

Doe sobbed, "I don't know what you mean!"

"Spawn of Unicron," Sunstreaker cursed, "This cannot be fragging happening. Has my bit-brained brother told you anything?"

"N-no..." Amy shook her head frantically. "H-he just shows up once in a wh-while and chats for a bit before taking off again."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed as he continued to interrogate the woman, "What do you two dim sparks talk about?"

"N-Nothing in particular," Amy denied through her tears. "J-just work stuff m-mostly," she sniffled. "Things going on around base. Earlier today he, h-he..." she trailed off as another sob wracked her body.

"He what?" Sunstreaker impatiently demanded she continue. "He what, Squishie?"

Amy swallowed thickly, trying to force the words out though what felt like a vice wrapped around her throat crushing her windpipe. "H-he was re-reciting p-poetry."

Sunstreaker went completely still and silent for a moment, his faceplates going slack before seeming to explode in a flurry of rage. "Poetry?! That bot fragging son of a scrap heap! Fragging poetry?!" The mech began pacing once more. "Did you know that we're twins? Did the glitch head at least tell you that much?"

"Y-yes," Doe nodded. "H-he did."

"And you have zero clue what that means, do you?" Sunstreaker glared at her, seemingly repulsed by the thought. "Absolutely none." He laughed then, the sound frighteningly flat and devoid of any real humor. "And why would you? Look at you," he spat. "Your just another useless organic caught up in something much bigger than you that your tiny, little meat brain has no chance of comprehending."

"I'm s-sorry," Amy muttered once again, still unsure what it was she was apologizing for but more certain than not that whatever the problem was was her fault.

"This was a mistake," the mech finally uttered. "Coming to this dirt ball of a planet was a mistake." He focused his heavy gaze back onto the frightened femme. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, Squishie. I don't care what my brother tells you. We didn't survive the streets of Koan, the gladiator rings, and this Pit-spawned war to end up in some farce of a trine with some slimy, little bag of organic pulp. Sides may accept it but I never will. Do you understand me?"

Amy honestly had no idea what the mech was going on about but he seemed volatile and unstable at the moment and she certainly didn't want to take a precarious situation and make it any worse by disagreeing. "Y-yes," she nodded. "Yes, S-sir."

"Good," the mech grit out before turning to pace away. "Now, get out of here. I don't even want to look at you."

Doe didn't have to be told twice. On shaking legs, she pushed herself up off the ground. She didn't even take the time to consider that she hadn't really been paying too much attention to the twists and turns the mech had made once they'd left the main road. She really had no idea where they were in relation to the rest of the base but at the moment that didn't seem to matter as much as simply getting away and disappearing. She stumbled off in the direction of some thick trees just off the beach. The palms sat close together and towered over her, the undergrowth thick, pulling at her clothes as she pushed and shoved her way through. When she felt she was far enough away, the sound of the ocean becoming a distant drone in the background, she collapsed and allowed all that she had been holding back to escape in an agonizing rush.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sunstreaker gazed out over the crashing waves, his audios tuned to the sound of the crying woman running off into the tropical wood until he could no longer hear the rustling of the foliage in her wake. He closed his optics. His spark ached fiercely and all the yelling and screaming at the femme had only made it worse. He had known better than to think it would end any differently. The whole situation was fragged up all the way around. Sideswipe seemed to know instinctively that something was wrong. The mech was pinging his comm like there was no tomorrow, trying to get a handle on his location and figure out what had him feeling so helpless and distraught. Sunstreaker wasn't up for facing his other half at the moment. It took a lot for him to admit it, but he knew he'd been way out of line. He didn't need his brother to confirm it. He quickly disabled his comm unit and did what he could to block out the spark bond he and Sides shared. There was no doubt his twin would have plenty to say about his behavior but his wasn't trying to hear it tonight.

As he stood there, he was disturbed to realize that alongside his fading rage an uncomfortable feeling of regret was creeping in. His processor replayed every biting word he'd spat at the femme and he cringed. It wasn't her fault, not really. When it came right down to it, it wasn't even Sides' fault, as much as he liked to heap the blame on his twin. This sort of thing...he'd heard of it happening before but had never expected it to happen to them. He'd certainly never contemplated whether or not it was possible outside of their own species. An organic, he reminded himself. A small, fragile, easily damaged organic, his conscience chimed in. Something deep within him twisted uncomfortably at that.

"Frag me sideways," he growled. He turned then, and strode determinedly towards the expanse of trees the woman had disappeared into. He surveyed them darkly, his audios straining to hear any sign of her presence over the sounds of the island's native nocturnal wildlife. Nothing sounded distinctly human, much to his irritation. He briefly considered going after her but discovered the trees were too close together to allow him to pass through comfortably. He probably could have squeezed through, or even ripped them up out of the ground by their roots but the thought of scratching up his paint or ending up covered in grainy particulate gave him pause. He wasn't that far gone, damn it.

"Hey, Squishie," he called. "Are you in there?"

No answer.

"Look," Sunstreaker begrudgingly admitted, "I'm not apologizing but I may have been a little harsh on you, alright? Come on back out and...and I'll take you back to your barracks, okay?"

Silence.

"Squishie!" He felt himself losing patience again. "If you don't come out I swear to Primus I'm going to..." He stopped himself from finishing that thought and instead sucked the cool, night air deep into his intakes and cycled it back out slowly. "I'm not mad, I mean, I am. I'm pissed but it isn't your fault, not entirely. Just...come out, I'll take you home, and neither of us will ever speak of this again, alright?"

Still nothing.

"Slag it all," the mech cursed and began to trek along to perimeter of the trees. His optics analyzing every shadow for any sign of the femme. He had half a mind just to head on back to his and Sides' berthing and let the woman fend for herself. The unsettled feeling rolling around in his spark wouldn't allow him to, though. As much as he loathed to acknowledge it, he knew he and Sideswipe were going to have to have a serious spark-to-spark chat, one he dreaded more than he'd dreaded just about anything in his life. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They'd been doing just fine on their own, or so he told himself.

"I know you're in there, Squishie." Exasperated, he begrudgingly added, "Please..."

 **End of Chapter 11**


	12. Chapter 12

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 12**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I know the last chapter was a hot mess. Time for some damage control! Things can't get much worse...or can they? I could have kept going and going in this one. I have so much to say! I had to force myself to stop, lol. I'd like to have the next chapter up on Monday but I can't make any promises. It may go up sometime near the end of next week. Anyway, as usual, much love to those who've added this story to their follows and faves. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Extra thanks to those who took time to review: TheGreenWallFlower, Hearts Tempo, AshelyOfChaos, TheSarcasticKnight, Angel Prime, Guest, Edges05, adelphe24, HenriettaDarlington, sakurawriter, rybkakoi, Maria B, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast. I read all of your feedback and take all of your ideas and suggestions into consideration. You guys rock!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe generally didn't get too worked up over Sunstreaker's little moods, as he liked to call them. They each had half of the same spark so he had a pretty good idea of what made the other mech tick. Typically, when Sunny got miffed at him he'd disappear for a while to seethe in private and blow off some steam but he'd never stay gone long. He would always come sulking back sooner rather than later, throw an irritated glare in his direction and maybe a half-sparked insult or two, but they'd be settled back into their comfortable existence with one another before the day was done. They were brothers, after all, and though they may have had a strange way of showing it, when all was said and done they still loved one another. That was something that wouldn't ever change.

This time, though, it felt different for some reason and Sides was hit with a growing realization that this may be a little more serious than he at first thought. He'd expected Sunny to be pissed to a degree. It was some pretty serious, potentially life-changing stuff they were dealing with. It was a given that his brother would be apprehensive and resistant. It had only been the two of them for so long that it was difficult to imagine it any other way. Sideswipe certainly had his reservations, as well, but things like this didn't just happen by accident. At least, he refused to believe they did. That being said, he was committed to trying to make the best of an admittedly weird and delicate situation.

Truth be told, over a week of chatting Amy up whenever he had the opportunity, he'd decided that he liked the femme. Like, really liked her. A lot. Surprising even to himself, the fact that she was human, an obstacle to be sure, had very little bearing on his feelings if at all. Initially, he'd thought it would be off-putting, distracting even, but he could honestly say he'd come to view her simply as his Ames. She was much smaller and softer than they were, yes, but those things didn't detract from her presence. She was friendly, but shy, and seemed uncertain of herself on occasion. He got the feeling she was probably dragging around as much baggage as he and Sunny were and then some. He wanted to ask but felt it too soon to pry so he let it be. There were things about his and Sunny's past he was ready to delve into just yet, either. Fair was fair.

He also knew she smart. She had to be if she met with Jazz's incredibly high standards. He'd Googled 'USN OS' to try to figure out exactly what it was she was supposed to have been doing all day...or would be if Jazz ever finished his project down in the old bunker. Operations seemed like a lot of tedious, demanding work to him but it was an important function and she seemed well suited for it. She took her job seriously, which he respected, but also had a good sense of humor. He'd seen glimpses of it here and there despite all the stress recent changes had no doubt heaped upon her slight shoulders. In all, she was a good femme and, though things would be difficult, he believed it could work if they put in the effort. Sideswipe was certain that if Sunny could put aside his misgivings long enough to get to know her, even a little, he'd grow to view her just the same if he'd give her half a chance.

Of course, for that to happen he'd have to be able to find them both first.

He hadn't been too terribly worried when his brother hadn't returned to their berth room. However, his first inkling of concern came when a sharp feeling of fury coupled with an unsettling sense of incredulity had worked its way across their bond to wrap its clammy tendrils around his own spark. Something had thrown Sunny off balance to the point where it was bleeding through. Though he didn't mind sharing pleasant sensations with his twin on occasion, this was far from it. It was disconcerting enough that he'd attempted to reach out to his brother, both through their shared bond and via comm only to be shut out completely. Apparently, he was not yet back in the other mech's good graces. He tried to chalk it up to Sunny being Sunny but still felt a bit unsettled. Needless to say, he hadn't had a very good recharge.

Today was a new day, he reminded himself. Sunny would come around when he was ready but until then, Sideswipe had the perfect way to spend his time. Walking out of the main hangar, he tipped his head back to take in the sky. The early morning light was being quickly pushed back by an ever growing bank of angry-looking black clouds. Rain was a certainty and Sideswipe couldn't help the scheming grin that lit up his faceplates. Perhaps today would be the day he'd finally convince Ames to let him give her a ride. No one wanted to wait in the rain and there was absolutely nothing the femme could say that would ever convince him that she actually enjoyed riding the bus. How she could possibly stand to ride in such an uncomfortable eyesore when she had a perfectly ready and willing Lamborghini at her disposal was beyond him.

"What in Primus' name are you standing around out here smiling about, you menace? You look insane. More so than usual. It's making the humans nervous."

Sides chuckled, glancing over to see the Autobot's CMO passing by on his way to the morning officers' meeting with Prime. "Nothing that concerns you, you old cog."

"Good," Ratchet griped. "See that it stays that way."

"You know, Hatchet," Sides' grin widened seeing Ratchet's optics narrow at the less-than-flattering nickname, "Not everything is about you. Believe it or not, I have plenty of other interests besides hiding your favorite set of wrenches every time you leave the med bay."

"You..." Ratchet's optics widened as he sputtered, "I knew it!"

The medic was fast, but Sideswipe was faster. By the time Ratchet had come stomping threateningly over in his direction, he'd already transformed and was peeling away from the hangar leaving the medic in a cloud of dust. Over his laughter and the sound of his engine purring along, he could still hear the disgruntled doctor ranting about "no-good, disrespectful, young punks". One thing he could give credit to Ratchet for, though, was his uncanny aim. The sharp sting of a hurled torque wrench impacting against his rear side panel made him flinch and swerve slightly but he laughed all the more harder for it. He didn't care how long he lived, annoying Ratchet never got old.

He was still chuckling when he pulled up outside the barracks and transformed. Over the last week he'd become something of a fixture around the place every morning and so no one really gave him much of a second glance as he skated over to plop his aft down on the stone retaining wall that ran around the building. A quick check of his chronometer told him he was right on time. Ames was pretty punctual. It was the military in her, he supposed. By his estimate, he figured she should be up, dressed, and finishing up her breakfast by now. All he had to do was wait.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It was a dark, overcast morning. A storm front was rolling in off the ocean and promising to drench the island base with rain before all was said and done. Doe watched the ominous, roiling clouds with a measure of detachment as she trudged up the steps of the base medical clinic. She wrenched the door open and stepped inside. The bright interior lighting sent a stab of pain shooting through her head causing her to whimper and smack a hand over her sensitive eyes. She must have looked at least as bad as she felt because the two duty personnel sitting at the information desk stopped what they were doing to watch her slow approach with a concerned look plastered on both their faces.

She knew she was probably a sight. She had been wandering the base on foot nearly all night, trying to find her way back to her barracks in between jags of hysterical crying. Initially, she'd thought to call Jazz. He'd promised to send someone to get her if need be. Fumbling around with her phone in the dark, however, had ended with the device sopping wet when she'd stumbled over some unseen obstacle and sent it flying into a mud hole. It was now about as useful as a paperweight. She'd cried about that, too. Her eyes were most certainly red and puffy with dark bags hanging beneath them. Her military regulation bun was coming loose and strands of tangled hair now hung limply around her face. Her uniform was filthy from wandering around in the dark all night, tripping over tree roots and rocks and God only knew what else, and her normally well-shined boots were scuffed and dirty. She'd lost her uniform cover somewhere, forcing her to walk around bare-headed. Speaking of, her head pounded worse then she could ever recall and her heart felt like it was being squeezed inside of a vice. The aching, burning throb in her chest cavity seemed to be getting worse instead of better to the point where it even pained her to draw a deep breath. To put it bluntly, she felt like shit and it showed.

"Can I help you?" One of the women at the desk finally asked her as they both continued to look her up and down.

"I'm here for sick call," Doe muttered. "I'm not feeling very well."

"Oh," The woman nodded and pointed down a long hallway off to the left. "Okay. Straight down that way. Last door on the right. You have to sign in at the desk with the corpsman. Do you...need some help getting there?"

"No," Doe flashed a pained smile. "Thanks. I'll make it."

Doe turned away from the desk and began to shuffle off in the direction the woman indicated. She felt light-headed suddenly and the hallway seemed to swim before her eyes. The hot, electrical sizzle in her chest sent sharp stabbing pain straight through her and she had the sudden urge to sit down right where she stood and cry some more. She shook her head. She couldn't. Not here. She continued on, eventually arriving at her destination.

The clinic was small but clean and brightly lit. Similar to the medical department on board her ship, there were wooden benches along the wall where walk-ins could sit and wait for their turn to see the doctor. Along one wall, next to reception, hung framed portraits depicting the Chain of Command from the President on down to the officers charged with running this particular BMC. Other old black and white photos were framed and hung about the room depicting military medical personnel of distinguished merit both past and present. Small engraved placards beneath the photos described their heroic actions under fire and the contributions they'd made to military medicine. These normally would have been historical tidbits Amy would have found herself interested in but at the moment all of her energy was focused on keeping herself upright and conscious.

The corpsman on duty was already coming around his desk toward her before she'd even made it half way across the room. He was a tall, broadly-built, dark-skinned man. The name embroidered on his uniform declared his name was 'Spencer'. He immediately proceeded to wrap one arm around Doe's shoulders and guide her over to the closest bench. Sitting her down, he made sure she was steady before calling back over his shoulder, "Hey, Jukodo! I could use some help out here, man."

At the sound of his name being called, an Asian man emerged from what appeared to be a storage space for medical records. His eyes widened behind his wire-framed glasses and he immediately came around to lend his assistance. He looked the obviously ill woman over with concern, "What happened?"

"I don't know. She staggered in looking like she was about to drop over." Spencer turned back to focus on the woman, "Can you tell me what's wrong? Are you hurt? In pain?"

Doe nodded just as another wave of hot, writhing pain took hold around her heart. Tears finally managed to leak out of the corners of her eyes as she finally grit out, "Hurts...my chest."

"I've got her." Jukodo turned to the other man, "Go clear an exam room. Find the doc and tell him its an emergency."

"Got it," Spencer nodded before hurrying off toward the back of the clinic. A couple moments later, he called back, "Exam two is clear!"

"Thanks!" Jukodo asked Doe, "Can you walk?"

"Yes," Doe nodded. "I think so."

"Alight," Jukodo hooked one arm around the woman's waist. "Up you go on the count of three."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Alright, Sideswipe admitted, he was really starting to worry. Ames was never late. In fact, he'd noticed that oftentimes when he'd escorted her to a place she tried her best to be at least fifteen minutes early. So, after twenty minutes of waiting for her to emerge from the chow hall and watching the shuttle she took to get from one side of the base to another come and go, he knew something was up. He stood and rolled back over to the curb where he could get a clear view of the window to her room. It was dark up there. He couldn't see anyone moving around in there but just to be sure, he ran a quick scan but it didn't detect any life signs either.

A frown creased his faceplates as he skated over in the direction of the chow hall. Most everyone who had been interested in eating breakfast had already come and gone. There were a few stragglers, however, and one he thankfully recognized. The marine, named Florczak, rotated through the N.E.S.T. ground team on a regular basis. Sides got on well with him when they were out on assignment but he wouldn't say they were chummy or anything like that. Regardless, he didn't think the man would mind answering a quick question.

"Hey, Florczak!" The mech called, "You got a minute?"

"Hey, Sideswipe," the man greeted in return. "Sure, man. What's up?"

"You know a girl named Doe?" Sideswipe clarified seeing the confused look that crossed the human's features. "She's navy. Second class petty officer. Cute, little blond. Green eyes. Kinda shy."

"Yeah," Florczak finally nodded after thinking for a moment. "I think I've seen her wandering around with Jazz, right?"

"That's her," Sideswipe grinned. "You didn't see her in the chow hall by any chance, did you?"

"No," the man shook his head. "It's pretty much cleared out in there. They were starting to clean up just now when I left. I'll keep an eye out for her, though. If I see her I'll let her know you're looking for her."

"Thanks a lot." Sides sighed, "Take it easy."

Sideswipe turned away from the man and made his way back toward the street. His optics kept shooting concerned glances between the barracks building and the chow hall before darting back to the bus stop. He was absolutely certain he hadn't missed her. He was so attuned to her by now that he figured he could have probably picked her out of a crowd of a thousand people easily. He supposed it was possible that she'd gotten out this morning earlier than she normally did. She hadn't mentioned anything to him about an early start but then again, they didn't have the type of relationship where she had to account for her every movement. As far as he knew the poor femme didn't even know they were in a relationship. He cast aside that thought as something he would need to talk to Sunny about and soon.

Back to the task at hand, there was only one other place she could possibly be that he could think of. The bunker, or Dungeon, as Ames referred to it much to Sideswipes amusement, was slated to begin rehab this week so he was certain she and Jazz had a lot of work to get done between now and then. The brunt of the work was being done by contractors, of course, but he could still remember Prowl being up in arms over the sheer amount of paperwork humans required just to install a set of wash racks. Surely transforming a decrepit space into a state-of-the-art operations center would be even more of a hassle. He chuckled to himself as he imagined Ames' discontent at having to get through all the paperwork and red tape she wasn't used to dealing with. As he transformed back into his car mode, he was certain he could think of something to cheer her up.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Okay, Petty Officer Doe, take a deep breath in...good. Let it out slow...perfect. And again..."

Amy sat upright on the edge of an exam table, trying to ignore the chill of the doctor's stethoscope against the skin of her back as he auscultated her breath sounds. She was feeling marginally better. An initial examination had revealed that she was mildly dehydrated. IV fluids were ordered to be administered. Jukodo had gotten the honor of sticking her and had, much to her discomfort, had inquired about the strange, round scarring that dotted the insides of her arms. He'd dropped the conversation quickly when she'd quietly informed him they were cigarette burns. He'd completed his task in silence before hurrying off to let the doc know he was finished.

The doctor was an Army Major named Irving, whom Doe decided she liked. He had a fatherly way about him, or so Doe assumed. She'd never had a real father-figure for comparison. Regardless, the man seemed genuinely caring and concerned. More importantly, he seemed competent and she hoped against hope that he'd be able to figure out what the hell was wrong with her and make it stop. She just wanted to feel normal again, regain some stability and equilibrium.

"Alright, OS2, you can go ahead and lay back." Major Irving hung his stethoscope back around his neck and came around to sit on a rolling, metal stool next to the exam table. He scribbled in Doe's medical record, quickly charting his findings before turning his full attention back to his patient. "Well, your lungs sound nice and clear and the EKG we did suggests your heart is just fine. You're a little tachy and your blood pressure is just a smidge above what it should be but under the circumstances that isn't too surprising. I've looked back over your medical records and the separation physical from your last command didn't suggest any health issues cardiac or otherwise. You said the discomfort started right after you got to Diego Garcia? After you received an electrical shock from on of our...friends?"

Yes, sir." Doe nodded. She fidgeted nervously, her fingers twining themselves in the hem of her undershirt. "Twice. Once when I arrived and again last night."

Major Irving removed his glasses and tucked them into his pocket. "The way you described it sounds like it may have been a buildup of static electricity. It happens. They are made of metal. A large enough discharge would have hurt like the dickens."

"It didn't feel like static," Amy protested. "I can't even explain to you what it feels like but it wasn't static. It did something to me. Something is wrong with me."

Major Irving studied the woman for a moment and then, "Do you have any history of anxiety or depression?"

"What?" Doe looked at the doctor incredulously. She suddenly didn't find him so appealing. "Why? I mean, my entire childhood was spent as a ward of the state. I grew up in less than stellar foster homes and group care facilities. I'd challenge anyone in that position to not feel anxious and depressed at least once in a while. I've never been medicated, if that's what you're asking. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Sometimes stress and anxiety can manifest themselves with physical symptoms. Headaches, chest pain, rapid or abnormal heartbeat, insomnia...all are pretty common stress-related issues. You did mention you were also having issues with sleeping." The doctor jotted some more notes down in her chart. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. You've had an extremely turbulent month. This place is a lot to take in. Believe me, you aren't the first to walk in here in a panic after the realization that your coworkers are giant robots from outer space hits home and you certainly won't be the last."

Doe frowned, "You think I'm crazy, then?"

"Not at all," the doctor laughed. "It's my professional opinion that the stress of the situation just caught up with you, is all. It happens to the best of us."

"So, this is all in my head." Doe rubbed one still-shaking hand over her breast bone. The excruciating pain had thankfully faded but an incessant, aching tingle remained. It wasn't pleasant but it didn't have her doubled over praying for death. She could deal. "Can it be fixed?"

"I'm going to give you a handout with some techniques you can try to help manage stress." The Major gave her a kind smile, "Breathing and meditation exercises can work wonders, believe it or not. The best things you can do are make sure you're getting enough rest, eat well-balanced meals, and exercise to burn off some of the tension you're carrying around. In the meantime," he closed her chart and sat it aside, "I've ordered a complete set of cardiac labs. I don't expect to find anything abnormal but it never hurts to cover all our bases and it may help put your mind at ease. I'm also going to write you up a chit for three days SIQ to hand in to your work center supervisor. Take the time off and try to relax. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," Doe nodded, still not entirely convinced. "Sounds like a plan."

"Excellent," the doctor rose from his seat. "I'm going to send Jukodo back in to draw those labs while I'll get the paperwork sorted and then we'll get you on your way."

"Okay," Doe murmured, "Great."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe wasn't one to panic but the unsettling feeling of something terribly amiss would leave him. He stood in the middle of the large, cavernous bunker, hands planted firmly on his hips, and watched as the contractors busied themselves with setting up construction equipment and preparing to overhaul the space. They shot concerned, nervous glances in his direction. Truthfully, he was beginning to get a little concerned and nervous himself. There was no sign that either Jazz or Ames had been anywhere near the place that morning. The contractors had confirmed as much.

Jazz's absence he could understand. The poor mech practically lived in the med bay these days. Sides hadn't been present for the battle at Mission City but he'd been told the scrappy, little mech had literally thrown himself at Megatron to buy the other's some time. The result hadn't been in Jazz's favor, to say the least. He'd been ripped in half and the damage had been catastrophic. He'd been so mangled that at first they'd mistaken him for dead. It was only by the grace of Primus and Ratchet's incredible medical know-how that Jazz was functional but he still had a long road to complete recovery stretched out in front of him.

Still, Jazz wasn't a mech to let something like nearly being crippled get him down. He needed to be moving, he needed to be useful. Sideswipe admired his tenacity. It hadn't come as any surprise to anyone when Jazz had marched, well, limped into Prime's office once his mobility had been restored and declared that he would take over surveillance and intelligence operations on their end effective immediately. Prime, just happy to see his friend and colleague amongst the living, hadn't argued and Prowl had gladly tasked Jazz with over seeing the special project they were putting together. Then, Jazz had found Doe.

With Jazz spending so much of his time with Ratchet being poked and prodded, a lot of the daily tasks had fallen into the human femme's hands. Sideswipe knew that she was generally at her station before Jazz arrived, opening up shop, and getting things rolling. She wasn't sure she was up for the task most days but he'd heard nothing but praise so far as she was concerned and it was clear that Jazz was fond of her. Confident or no, he was certain she wouldn't have shirked her duties. It made her absence from the space that much more worrisome.

With a huff of irritation, he rolled his way back to the freight elevator. As he rode it back up to the surface, he was wracking his processor, trying to think of somewhere else the femme may be. With Jazz most likely being held up in the med bay he thought she may have possibly gone there. He figured it unlikely, though. Plus, it was probably in his best interest to steer clear from the disgruntled CMO for a while until he forgot about their earlier interaction. Instead of going to look for Jazz, he headed off in the direction of the hangar that housed his and Sunny's berth room. Hopefully, his twin had cooled off enough that they could have a serious discussion. Sideswipe wasn't usually demanding but something had to give.

A warm rain began to fall, pinging off his broad shoulders, as he skated slowly back toward what had become his home. He took the long way back, keeping an optic out for any sign of either Jazz or Amy, just in case. No luck. He made it to the hangar, greeting the humans he passed with a nod or a smile. He skid to a stop outside of the room he and his brother shared and without any preamble, pulled open the door and stopped cold in his tracks. He felt his tank drop and his spark give an uncomfortable twist. "Sunny?"

Sunstreaker sat perched stiffly on the end of his berth. His normally pristine yellow paint was scratched and scuffed. Dirt and sand clung to his armor and what appeared to be a palm leaf was caught in the transformation seam between where his shoulder and upper arm met. Far from his usual cold, calculating demeanor, he looked nervous, perhaps even a little spooked. One leg bounced in agitation. His fingers were clenched against the slightly padded surface of the berth, digging deep grooves into the material. His optics were open wide, unseeing, staring at the far wall. Sideswipe let the door close behind him slowly. It wasn't until the latch had softly locked into place that the other mech even seemed to notice his presence.

Sunstreaker turned, meeting his brother's concerned gaze with his own confused, haunted look. "Sides..."

"Sunny," Sideswipe eased closer. "Where have you been? What happened? Are you alright? Should I comm Ratchet?"

"No," Sunstreaker croaked and shook his head. With a pained groan he pushed himself up to his feet and began to pace restlessly. "Look, we need to talk. Something's happened..."

"Something...what?" Sideswipe looked confused for a moment before the realization suddenly struck him. "Oh, no...Sunny. No. What did you do?"

Sunstreaker continued to pace, "I was pissed off and I wasn't thinking..."

"What happened," Sideswipe demanded, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "What in the Pit did you do?"

 **End of Chapter 12**


	13. Chapter 13

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 13**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all doing fabulously today. Any day I get a new chapter up is a good day over here in VQ land. For some reason, this one was hard to write. I could see what I wanted in my head but just couldn't seem to get it to translate well onto the page. I'm not extremely happy with how it turned out but after scouring over it for the last couple days I think it's as good as it's going to get. Sorry for that! Also, there is some Mirage/Dino in this chapter. We all know he has an affinity for Italian for some reason. He comes from money and, quite frankly, he's a little bougie so... I could have noted the translations for you but I'm lazy and this chapter got HUGE really fast, lol. Feel free to look them up if you want. Just be forewarned...he may want to choose his words more carefully as they might end up getting him in trouble. Just saying.**

 **As always, thank you so much to all who have added this story to their follows and favorites. I'm so happy you're coming along for the ride! Extra special shoutout to those who took time to drop me a review: The Whispering Sage, TheGreenWallFlower, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Hearts Tempo, sakurawriter, CherryVanillaCoke, Guests (whoever you are, lol), Becka3490, Edges05, Leonixon, HenriettaDarlington, AshelyOfChaos, jojoniles. I love you all and you're awesome!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Petty Officer Doe sat on the bus with her head leaned against the window. The gentle rocking motion as the shuttle wound its way around the base coupled with the pitter patter of rain against the glass would have no doubt lulled her to sleep if she hadn't had so much going on inside her brain. She'd left the medical clinic with a packet of information about stress and an SIQ chit stating she was ill enough to take the next three days off to recuperate. Despite the doctor assuring her she was a perfectly healthy young woman, she had a hard time believing all her problems were due to just being stressed out. She'd been through combat deployments that had made her feel more frazzled. If helping to coordinate an entire Carrier Strike Group's ops in the middle of active combat sorties hadn't sent her stress level skyrocketing, nothing would. Then again, she didn't have a fancy degree from medical school so, who knows. Maybe the doc was right and it was all in her head.

She needed to find Jazz, turn her chit in, and let him know about her SIQ status and not to be dependent on her getting things rolling in the morning for the next few days. First, however, she'd decided to return to her barracks before seeking the mech out. She'd been a mess and thought perhaps a shower and change of clothes may do her some good before she ventured back out to face the world. If nothing else, she needed to maintain her professional front, something she usually prided herself on. She'd made it back to her room on autopilot, gathered her toiletries and a clean uniform, and made her way back down the hall to the showers. The first glance of herself she'd gotten when trudging into the female washroom had frightened her to say the very least. She'd looked haggard and worn down...lost, even. She'd barely recognized the reflection staring back at her. It had taken great effort to pull her eyes away from the stranger in the mirror but she'd eventually managed to refocus on the task at hand.

Mechanically, she'd begun to jerk the bobby pins out of her hair allowing her messy mass of blond waves to fall around her shoulders before stripping out of her dirty uniform and tossing it aside. She'd turned on the shower, cranking the water up as hot as she could possible stand, and stepped beneath the scalding spray. The water had been just-this-side of painful but as it sluiced over her aching muscles, she'd felt them begin to relax ever so slightly. She'd set about the task of getting clean, lathering her hair up into a rich foam before rinsing it out again. As she began scrubbing her body with the same vigor, trying to rid herself of the beach grime and stink of humiliation she'd been inundated with the night before, she'd studiously avoided concentrating too much attention on the scars she'd collected over the course of her twenty-year existence. Each mar and imperfection were a physical reminder of the times she'd rather put out of her mind. Sunstreaker's harsh words, however, had brought many painful experiences rushing back to the forefront of her memory. She'd shuddered, suddenly cold despite the steamy cascade of water, and wrenched the faucet back into its off position.

She'd toweled off quickly before pulling her clean undergarments and uniform on hastily and quickly squaring herself away. She'd taken more care with her hair. She didn't blow dry it, she hardly ever did, but she did take her time to carefully part it on the left, gathering the still-damp strands in one hand, twisting them up into a bun at the nape of her neck and repinning it securely. She didn't bother with makeup. Again, that was something that she rarely if ever indulged in. She didn't see much point in it. No one was interested in looking at her. If her face was clean, she was happy. Once she'd finished, she felt a bit more human and a little less like the walking dead. Good enough.

She'd done her best to ignore the aching buzz in her chest while she'd trekked back to her room to deposit her dirty laundry and grab her extra cover. She'd tried not to focus on how it felt different now since the second jolt she'd received from Sunstreaker. It felt warmer...fuller, almost. It no longer felt like something was missing but more like something was not quite syncing up properly. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to explain. She'd reminded herself that the doctor had spent a good portion of her visit listening to her heart. He'd even done an EKG but all it had shown was a perfectly normal sinus rhythm. According to his assessment, she was perfectly fine physically. It was nothing more nefarious than stress, she'd repeated over and over again to herself the doctor's opinion as she'd finally made her way to the shuttle stop, still feeling less than convinced.

Amy was jarred out of her thoughts as the shuttle finally pulled to a stop near her destination. She gathered her things, giving the driver a polite nod, and exited out onto the sidewalk. A quick check of her watch told her that it was early enough that Jazz was most likely still undergoing his morning medical routine, whatever that entailed. She was very curious about what had happened to put the upbeat mech in such a fragile physical state but was far too polite and empathetic to ask. She knew from experience how difficult some things were to talk about and wouldn't purposely put another in the uncomfortable position of answering questions they may not want to think about. So she kept her curiosity to herself.

She'd never actually been to the med bay before but it wasn't all that far from the Dungeon. Being so close, she thought she'd stop in there first and make sure the contractors were squared away before going off in search of Jazz. There were a few men outside the bunker that appeared to be finishing up unloading materials and equipment. They greeted her politely as she made her way to the elevator and pushed the button to take her down deep beneath the ground. Stepping out once she reached the bottom, she was struck by the flurry of activity in the normally tomb-like structure. She was so used to the cavernous space only housing she and Jazz that the extra bodies and equipment felt almost intrusive in a way. Among the hectic masses, she was eventually able to pick out the construction foreman and headed in his direction.

She greeted the man, getting a quick update from him on the construction status in return. He needed some signatures on the final draft of the blueprints which he gave to her and she promised to pass them along to Jazz who could, in turn, sit down with Prime and Prowl to make sure everything was as discussed. She also informed him that she would be unavailable for the next couple days and if there were any issues or concerns that he was more than welcome to ask Jazz. He was the mech in charge of the project after all.

As she finally excused herself, however, the man called after her, "Hey, miss!"

Doe turned back to face the man, "Yes?"

"I almost forgot," the man spoke in a heavy New York accent, "One of those robot guys was down here earlier this morning looking for you."

"Oh?" Doe raised a brow. "Jazz?"

"Nah, nah," the man shook his head. "I know what that one looks like. This one said his name was Sideways or Sidewalk or something like that."

Doe's eyes widened as she felt her chest constrict, "Sideswipe?"

"Yeah!" The man exclaimed with a snap of his fingers, "That's it! These guys and their names, am I right? Sideswipe..." the man shook his head and chuckled. "Anyway, he seemed kind of worried that you weren't here. Said he'd been looking all over. I promised if I saw you that I'd let you know he was looking for you."

"Oh, okay," Doe croaked, her mouth suddenly dry. "Thank you." She turned, woodenly, and stepped quickly back into the elevator. Her finger jabbed the up arrow repeatedly until the doors finally rolled closed. Her hands flew up to grip her chest. Her heart felt like it was going to beat its way out through her ribs as a sudden wave of panic washed over her. The electric feeling in her chest buzzed back to life with a vengeance causing her to groan in pain and grit her teeth together.

"It's stress," she muttered, trying to convince herself even as fresh tears started to gather in her eyes. "You had a rough night. That's all it is. The doctor said so."

Desperately, she tried to remember what the handout the doctor had given her said. There were breathing techniques for situations like this. She needed to relax, that's all. She closed her eyes and took a few nice, deep breaths. Inhale...one, two, three, four. Exhale...one, two, three, four. Repeat. By the time the doors opened at ground level, she was was able to pull herself together, more or less, but a tumultuous, hot charged feeling continued to writhe within her chest as she headed off in the direction of the med bay in search of Jazz.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"What did you do, Sunny?" Sideswipe was normally a patient mech in most situations where his twin was concerned but this was different. This was so beyond his comprehension that it was taking every ounce of his restraint to keep from launching himself at his brother and beating the answer out of him. "What did you do to her?"

Sunstreaker protested, "I didn't do anything to her!"

"Then where in Creation is she?" Sideswipe demanded.

"I don't know!" Sunstreaker snapped, "I took her out to the beach!"

"The beach?" Sides looked at his brother, suspicious. "Why would she go with you to the beach? I can't even get her to let me give her a ride to work in the morning."

"Because I didn't give her a choice, alright? There," Sunny threw his arms out to his sides. "Are you happy now?"

"You kidnapped her?" Sideswipe felt his core temperature beginning to rise along with his voice. "You kidnapped her and took her to the other side of the island? Why? What in the Pit were you thinking?"

"I wasn't! I was pissed off!" Sunstreaker began to pace once more, "I saw her and I wanted...I don't even know what I wanted. To discourage her, I guess."

"Discourage?" Sides looked at his brother disbelieving, his fists clenched, barely restraining himself. "This isn't something that can just be turned off, Sunny! You know that! Why would you do that?"

"Because this whole situation is fragging ridiculous!" Exasperated, Sunstreaker turned to his brother, "Look, she zapped me, alright? Or I zapped her. I don't know! We zapped each other! It was just like you said and I panicked! I yelled at her, she got upset, and ran off into the trees! I haven't seen her since!"

"And you just let her go, right?" Sideswipe hadn't even realized that his arms had shot out and shoved his brother until the other mech staggered back a few steps. It felt good in his agitated state, though, and so he did it again. "You just left her there?! She doesn't know her way around, you fragger! She goes from the barracks to the bunker and back! That's it!"

"Look at me, afthead!" Sunny indicated his battered paint job, "I was out there all night scraping up my fragging finish looking for that slagging Squishie! I don't know why your tailpipe is all in a twist. Even on foot, she had to have found her way back by now. She's probably either in her barracks or down in the bunker with Jazz."

"No," Sides grit out, "She isn't!"

Sunstreaker looked at his brother, the first real sparkle of concern flashing in his optics. "What do you mean she isn't?"

"She isn't in the barracks," Sideswipe hissed, feeling his last vestige of patience slipping away. "I've been all over base this morning. She isn't in the chow hall. She isn't in the bunker. So, where the frag is she?"

"No," Sunstreaker shook his head. "She has to be here somewhere. I ripped the slagging trees up out of the ground looking for her, Sides! I went all up and down the beach! She wasn't-!"

Sideswipe was near steaming, "You glitch!"

Clang!

The sound of Sideswipe's fist impacting with his Sunstreaker's faceplates echoed hollowly in the small berthing space. For a moment, Sunny simply stood there looking surprised by the action. His face mirrored that of his twin, as if the other mech couldn't believe he'd hit him either. Sunstreaker's glossa peaked out from the corner of his mouth, tasting the trickle of energon there. Did he deserve his brother's abuse for what he'd done? Probably. Was he the slightest bit worried that the femme was nowhere to be found? Honestly? Yes, but he'd never let his brother know that. He'd screwed up. Badly. But he wasn't about to stand there passively and let Sideswipe beat the slag out of him when they should be trying to find a way to rectify the situation.

Sideswipe, though, apparently found it necessary to punish his other half for his indiscretions. "I swear to Primus, if you've let anything happen to her...if you've hurt her..." The mech took another swing but Sunny quickly sidestepped it.

The accusation, the idea that he'd actually physically harm the femme went through him like a blade. He didn't like Earth. He didn't care for humans. The femme, though, as much as he wished with every fiber of his being that he could deny it, there was something different about her. He didn't think he'd be capable of harming her even if he wanted to, fragged up situation or no. Sunstreaker grit his denta together. A feral growl escaping from his vocalizer, "I didn't hurt her!"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The Autobots' med bay was a short walk from the Dungeon. Rain continued to fall in warm, fat drops, soaking through Amy's uniform shirt and bouncing off the brim of her cover. Military personnel rushed from place to place, trying to stay as dry as possible. Amy didn't mind the rain, though. She'd always found it comforting in a way. When she was small, she'd liked to pretend that it was sent down from heaven to wash away all of the bad things and that, if she prayed hard enough, it would wash her away, too, far away to a place that was warm and welcoming. It never happened. The sun would always return and she'd find herself right where she'd always been, just as cold and lonely as always. Before she could dwell on it too much, she found herself standing at the entrance to the hangar that housed the med bay.

Squaring herself up to her full height and trying to be as professional as possible, she made her way inside. The hangar was enormous, to say the very least. Prior to the arrival of Cybertronians, it had been used to house C-5M Super Galaxy strategic airlifters. They were the biggest planes in the Air Force's arsenal at nearly 250 feet in length and 65 feet in height. The hangar had been plenty large enough to partition off into sections for use by the mechs. There was a large open area when you first walked in and it was Doe's understanding that mech-human combat training was done there. Offices had been created for both Prime and Prowl to sort through the red tape and legislation that went along with being granted permission to remain on Earth in peace. Ironhide had some sort of workroom where he was constantly upgrading his comrades' weapons and working to find more efficient ways to destroy the enemy. In the very back of the hangar, space had been cordoned off and given to Ratchet to construct medical facilities.

Taking a deep breath, Doe headed off towards the rear of the hangar. There were a few humans scattered about, mostly maintenance workers by the looks of them. She spied Prime and Prowl off to the side speaking with a couple men in suits. They didn't give her so much as a glance as she skirted nervously by. She spied Ironhide leaning against a steel cargo crate polishing his canons. The mech gave her a nod of recognition as she passed which she returned with a tight-lipped smile of her own and scurried on. Though she was comfortable with Jazz, she couldn't really say the same for the others she didn't know as well. Intimidated didn't even begin to sum up her feelings on the subject. She supposed Sideswipe was alright but his brother...Doe shuddered.

"Ciao, picollina!"

A heavily accented voice pulled Doe out of the dark path her thoughts threatened to take and she turned to find the regal-looking red mech striding over in her direction. Mirage, she knew. Not well, mind you, but enough to where she didn't feel like hyperventilating in his presence. Jazz had bribed the mech on a couple occasions to help them out with some heavy lifting since Ratchet had banned him from doing any more than basically sitting on his aft all day. Mirage had seemed cordial enough on those occasions but did come off, at least in Doe's opinion, as being a bit snooty. Still, she though he was okay. She smiled, "Hey, Mirage."

"Please, bella signora, call me Dino." The mech smiled at her, "All of my friends do."

"Dino." Doe nodded, "Right, sorry."

"No worries, mio caro." The mech gave her a once over. "You came looking for Jazz, no?"

"Uh, yeah." Amy fidgeted. "Do you know if he's still back there with Ratchet?"

"Sì," the mech confirmed. "He's been in there with the doctor for some time. I'm sure he would appreciate a distraction."

"Great," Doe sighed in relief. "Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure," the mech inclined his head to the woman and watched as she continued on her way. As an after thought he called after her, "Oh, and bella?"

Doe turned, "Yes?"

"You look tired," Mirage observed. "Try not to work so hard, yes?"

"I'll try," Doe replied softly. In the back of her mind she wondered how ghastly she must have looked that even aliens were taking notice. Feeling more than a little self conscious, she pressed on into the med bay.

Sliding the door back just wide enough to fit herself though, Amy was a bit taken aback by what she found on the other side. She wouldn't know if she would call it surprising, really, being that it was, in fact, a medical facility and all, but it looked every bit like the typical emergency room set up that could be found in any reputable hospital. Just on a very, very large scale that was nothing short of impressive. Everything looked crisp and clean and sterile. A smell, not quite antiseptic but certainly quite similar, hung in the air. Amy's eyes roamed the space curiously, taking in the sights as well as looking for Jazz.

She spotted him in the back corner, sitting atop what looked like a large, robot-sized gurney. The CMO was there, as well. They were speaking to each other in that strange, computerized-sounding language she'd become familiar with in her dreams but still had no hope of understanding. Ratchet appeared to be alternating between soldering and rewiring something in the mech's right shoulder. The medic looked intently focused and Doe was reluctant to interrupt. She briefly considered leaving and coming to find Jazz later once he was finished but exhaustion really had begun to pull at her and the bizarre buzzing in her chest continued unabated. All she wanted to do was hand in her chit, go back to the barracks, and curl up in her rack.

Taking a deep breath, she rapped on the doorframe, "Hello?" Jazz and Ratchet both froze and looked in her direction. She swallowed nervously, "Hi...Sorry to bother you..."

Ratchet smiled kindly at the woman, "No bother, Miss Doe. Please, come in." He gave the mech on the gurney a hard look, "Perhaps you can help me convince the Lieutenant that it's in his best interest to follow my medical advice before I'm forced to reformat him into a toaster."

"D!" Jazz exclaimed, "Please tell me you came here to rescue me from this torture!"

"Sadly, no." Doe trekked toward the pair, coming to a halt before the gurney. "I have to say, though, I agree with the part about following medical advice. That's kind of why I'm here."

"Everything alright?" Worried, the mech leaned forward to get a better look at the woman.

"Fine," Doe frowned, "Mostly. I wasn't feeling very well this morning so I went to sick call and they gave me three days SIQ."

"SIQ?" Jazz's optics flashed behind his visor. "What's that?"

"Sick in quarters," Ratchet supplied as he eyed the woman with concern. "You do look a little peaked if you don't mind my saying. Nothing too serious, I hope. Who did you see over there?"

"Major Irving," Doe answered. "He said I'd be fine in a couple days but..." She shrugged her shoulders and trailed off, doubt coloring her voice.

"You don't sound very confident in his diagnosis," Ratchet observed. "Major Irving is usually pretty good."

"He did everything he was supposed to," Doe admitted. "It's probably just like he said and nothing to worry about. It's probably just me overreacting."

"Hmm...," Ratchet hummed in concern and leveled his gaze on the young woman, "Unfortunately, our agreement with your government prohibits me from performing any medical procedures on humans." Ratchet scoffed, "They cite health and safety concerns but then turn around and pump patients full of toxic chemicals and radiate them to halt abnormal cellular growth. It's positively prehistoric. Regardless," the CMO continued, "If you'd like a non-invasive second opinion, I'd be more than happy to accommodate."

"Thanks, Ratchet," Amy smiled up at the mech. He never seemed as grumpy to her as other people made him out to be. "I'll think about it."

The CMO nodded and turned his attention back to Jazz's shoulder.

Jazz asked, "You sure you're gonna be alright? You do look kinda out of it."

"Yeah," Amy assured. "I'm just tired. Nothing some quality sleep won't fix."

Jazz appeared to be about to say more but was cut off by the sound of the hangar's announcement speakers, bolted high near the ceiling, crackling to life.

"May I have your attention..." The voice droned, "Prowl requests the immediate presence of Ironhide and Ratchet in building B-13, space 9D...This is not a drill."

"Oh, for the love of..." Ratchet cursed under his breath and slammed his tools down on the gurney. "What now?"

Jazz raised a brow ridge, "Isn't that the twins' berthing?"

"Of course it is!" The medic snapped as stalked over to his workbench to grab a box of medical supplies and tuck them away into subspace. "Those two Pit-spawned hellions are going to be the death of me. You," He pointed a finger at Jazz as he stalked out of the med bay, "Don't move."

"Don't get all bent out of shape, doc. I'll be here when you get back." Jazz chuckled, "Those two really grind Ratchet's gears. I think they do it on purpose. It's like a sport to them. Know what I mean, D? D? Are you okay?"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were closer than most. It was part of the package that came with being twins. You couldn't share spark energy with someone and not be close. That, however, didn't mean they didn't have their disagreements and differences of opinion. They were much like any other pair of siblings in that regard. True arguments, though, were rare. Outright fighting even more so. Still, they had been known on occasion to get into shouting matches, pushing and shoving each other around. These occurrences typically blew over quickly. They'd be separated, confined to the brig for a day or two, and then continue on like nothing had ever transpired. This, though, Prowl had never seen them like this.

The twins were brutal, if not reckless, fighters. Most likely owing their skills to fending for themselves on the streets of Kaon from a young age and then sharpening their prowess in the gladiator pits was they grew older. Their's had not been an easy life, tragic really, but it had turned them both in to extremely adept and feared combatants that even the Decepticons couldn't help but respect. Even Prime had commented on several occasions following particularly ferocious battles how fortunate the Autobots were to have the twins on their side. Even Optimus, being the skilled warrior he was, had qualms regarding the thought of taking the two of them on. Prowl couldn't say he disagreed and he certainly had no desire to insert himself into the middle of the knock-down, drag-out brawl playing out in front of his optics. He'd called for backup.

Ironhide had no such hesitation and had gleefully shoved Prowl out of the way to pull the two grappling mechs apart. Prowl half-expected the two of them to turn on the Weapons Specialist for interfering. Instead, the two exhausted front liners seemed to go slack in the larger mech's grip. Ironhide was obviously disappointed. With a long suffering sigh, Prowl stepped forward to take control of Sideswipe, allowing to Ironhide to keep a hold on Sunstreaker. Surveying the room with sharp optics, Prowl noted that it was more or less in shambles. He added 'Destruction of Government Property' to the ever-growing mental list of infractions he was compiling. The humans wouldn't be happy. He could already imagine the paperwork.

Prowl turned his attention to the now docile pair of mechs. The twins' continued to stare one another down but their frames heaved and cooling fans roared as their systems struggled to bring down the temperature of their overheated components. They both looked as if they'd been beat all the way to the Pit and back. Both bots' armor was riddled with deep dents and scratches. Energon leaked from a broken line in Sunstreaker's arm, oozing slowly down his down his forearm and wrist to drip from his trembling fingers onto the floor. Wiring sparked in Sideswipe's thigh, the burnt out ends smoking slightly and filling the small space with the scent of ozone. Ratchet was going to bust a gasket. Speaking of which...

"What in the name of Primus is going on here? What have you two wing nuts done now?"

"An excellent question, Ratchet," Prowl replied, his optics never leaving the pair of troubled mechs, "Do either of you care to explain why you were in here going at each other like a couple of feral machadrons?"

Sides huffed and looked away from his brother. Sunny merely shook his head. Neither said a word as Ratchet began to roughly inspect the pairs' injuries.

The CMO snarled in anger, "Of all the malfunctioning, glitched-out piles of scrap in the universe...what did I ever do to deserve having to put up with the pair of you? They're going to have to come back to the med bay. That relay needs to be rewired and that energon line needs flushed and reconnected."

"Very well, then." Prowl continued in a clipped, authoritarian tone. "Ironhide, help me get these two down to the med bay. I expect them to clean this mess up once Ratchet is through with them. Then maybe a couple days in the brig will give them some time to reflect on their behavior."

The trip to the med bay was a relatively uneventful one. The twins didn't put up much of a resistance. The human military personnel didn't seem to pay much attention to the sight of the two mechs being dragged across the base by Ironhide and the SIC, the irate CMO hot on their heels. It had become something of a regular occurrence since the two had made landfall. To say they'd created a reputation for themselves would have been an understatement.

"Alright," Ratchet barked as he pushed open the med bay door, "Get your sorry afts over to the far berth and sit down." Still grumbling under his breath, he stomped over to his tool bench to gather what he needed.

A scowl firmly engrained on his face plates, Sunstreaker stalked in the direction indicated, Ironhide shadowing him the entire way. He was too weary of the whole situation to even argue. His spark still ached and now his frame did as well. All over that stupid Squishie. If he ever got his hands on her again he'd, he'd...he'd be relieved, honestly. Sides' declaration that he'd been all over base and hadn't seen a single sign of her presence had worried him more than he was willing to admit. The whole situation felt like it was on the brink of spiraling out of his control and as much as he loathed it, or tried to, he was on the verge of being willing to declare out loud that maybe, just maybe, there may be something more at work here. He sank down onto the berth, head cradled in his hands, and tried to wrack his processor to find a way to fix what he'd done.

Sides rolled along, more or less allowing Prowl to push him to where he needed to be. He regretted fighting with his brother when they should have been looking for their femme. It was almost instinctual, though, like he couldn't control himself. The need to defend what was his had been so strong that he'd been helpless to stop. He was pretty sure Sunny had felt much the same. There was no other explicable reason as to why their altercation had become so violent so quickly. They fought, as any siblings did from time to time, but had never seriously tried to injure each other. He was sorry they'd come to blows but he was even more sorry that they'd wasted time they should have spent trying to find Ames and figure out how to proceed from there. Regretfully, he sank down on the berth next to his brother.

"Sunny," he whispered, bumping shoulders with the other mech. "I'm sorry..."

"Shut up, Sides," Sunstreaker hissed but his voice lacked any real venom. "Just...give me a minute to think, alright?"

"Yeah," Sides nodded. "Sure, Sunny."

Sideswipe sighed. He was sure they'd have plenty of time to rehash what happened later on in the brig so he let it go for now. Instead, he took a moment to survey the med bay. Ratchet was still banging around at his tool bench, gathering what he'd need to tend their injuries. He couldn't say he was looking forward to that. Ironhide leaned against the bulkhead beside the berth, arms crossed intimidatingly over his chest plates, seeming to dare either one of them to try and make a move. He snorted at that. Prowl had stepped out, no doubt to brief Optimus on the situation. The Boss Bot would most likely have another one of his stern, fatherly lectures about teamwork and getting along to subject them to later. It was then that he noticed Jazz was in the room.

He hadn't seen the mech when he'd walked in and with good reason. Jazz was crouched down in between two other berths, his back to them, but he did keep looking over his shoulder and casting concerned glances in their direction before turning back. It took him another moment to realize that the mech wasn't alone. He wasn't the biggest of mechs but he was still large enough that his frame dwarfed the humans. He was speaking in hushed, soothing tones, too quiet for Sideswipe to make out what he was saying but there was no mistaking his concerned and calming gestures. Someone was upset and the mech was attempting to talk them down. When Jazz stood up and turned towards them, a look of angry concern on his face plates, Sides felt as if his spark had stopped.

Doe, his Ames, was there. The femme looked shaken. She was as white as a piece of paper, her soft, human skin seeming almost translucent under the bright med bay lights. A fine sheen of sweat dotted her forehead but she trembled as if she were cold. Her green eyes were wide and blood shot as she took in the sight of them. Her breath came in quick, shallow pants and she gripped her chest as if afraid her heart would somehow beat its way out. His own spark gave a sympathetic twinge inside his chest plates. Beside him, Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably.

It took a long moment in which time seemed to stand still before his processor was able to convince his mouth to work. He was torn between being thrilled at her being alive and whole and gravely concerned about her current state. To him, she looked every bit as if she'd been dragged through the Pit and back. "Ames!"

Sunstreaker's head shot up. His optics immediately locking on to the woman that had captured his brother's attention. "Squishie!" The mech, completely ignoring the fact that Jazz was now limping in their direction looking fit to kill the both of them, tried to rise from the berth. "You're alright..."

"Sit down." Ironhide grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him back down onto the berth.

"Get off me, Hide," Sunny hissed and began to struggle.

Ironhide smirked, "Make me, you half-clocked punk."

Amy stood watching as the scene escalated with ever-growing horror. Sideswipe had become entangled in his brother's struggle with Ironhide. In turn, Ratchet became involved, threatening to sedate the whole lot of them if they didn't settle down. Things took an ugly turn from there as the situation devolved quickly into a wrestling match. She'd never seen the mechs fight before, not even in training, but it was probably one of the most frightening things she'd seen in her short life. The screech of metal scraping against metal, the echoing clang of impact, hissing hydraulics...she clapped her hands over her ears as fresh tears started to form in her eyes.

Through her fear, though, there was also worry. It was nearly inexplicable the worry she felt for the twins. Both of them, surprisingly. Even Sunstreaker, who had wounded her so deeply with his words the night before, garnered her concern. Her racing mind tried to chalk it up to the fact that they'd both looked like they'd suffered some kind of high-speed collision when they'd been dragged in. Regardless, it was difficult to watch as Prowl came rushing back in and proceeded to help Ironhide and Ratchet subdue the two. She felt as though she should have been doing something, helping them in some way. The urge was impossible to explain but she managed to subdue it.

Jazz had plenty he wanted to say to the twins himself but when the fight broke out, he'd immediately changed course, instead limping toward the med bay doors. His main concern was for the human female he'd grown so fond of. He wrenched the doors open calling out, "Dino! Get in here!"

The mech hadn't wandered far from where he'd last interacted with Doe and so was there in a flash. His optics widened at the ongoing struggle across the room, "Mio Dio," his faceplates twisted into a look of distaste. "You want I should help break it up?"

"Nah," Jazz shook his head, "I think they've got it handled. I want you to take Petty Officer Doe back to her barracks. She doesn't need to be messed up in this."

"Oh, okay," Mirage, looking relieved, nodded. "I would be happy to escort the signora home." He motioned for the woman to follow. "Come, carina. We go now. This is no place for such a fiore delicato."

Against her instincts, Amy allowed herself to be led out of the med bay. She tried not to think about the struggle going on behind her. She tried not to think about how beat up the twins had looked or how their optics, even Sunstreaker's, had lit up in both excitement and concern when they'd seen her. She tried not to think about anything other than getting back to her barracks and crawling into her rack. The last thing Amy heard as Mirage escorted her out was her name being bellowed by one of the twins. It was followed by the sound of a large ruckus, swearing, and finally the almost deafening sound of metal colliding with metal. Then, the med bay grew quiet once more.

 **End of Chapter 13**

 **Again, not very happy with this but it's about as good as it's going to get. Also, I'm kind of excited because I think I've got the perfect semi-tragic twist to the story. Notice I say SEMI-tragic. I won't go into too much detail now because that's still a ways down the road but I think every story needs a good twist, don't you?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 14**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I'm happy to be back with another chapter. In this one, our plot begins to thicken...as if we didn't already have enough problems, right? It's the first part of that whole semi-tragic thing I mentioned. I'm horrible! I'll try to get another chapter up next week. Moving right along...Many thanks to those who've added this story to their faves and follows since my last update. I'm happy to have you along for the ride! Extra special thanks to those who've taken time to review: Edges05, Alice Gone Madd, The Whispering Sage, jojoniles, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, HenriettaDarlington, Guests (you know who you are), TheGreenWallFlower, rybkakoi, adelphe24**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The brig had become something of a home away from home for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker since joining the Autobot cause. Honestly, the punishment didn't bother them as much as Prowl liked to think. Not that they'd ever confess that bit of information. Sure, Sideswipe easily grew bored with nothing to keep him occupied and Sunny lamented the fact that while incarcerated he had to go without a wash and wax but it was certainly better than the alternative. They could appreciate that someone still had a sense of law and order even after all this time. Even if that someone did have a stick up their aft bigger than a giant California Redwood. Even if they were the ones on the receiving end of the SIC's so-called 'justice'.

They were sure Prowl chalked their occasional deviance up to the fact that they'd grown up in Kaon. It was, after all, considered to be the most lawless and dangerous places on Cybertron. The city-state, dissatisfied with the High Council's political agenda, had fallen to Decepticon rule long before the war had broken out, its citizens subjected to the barbaric whims of its ruling class. Those with the means to do so had fled leaving behind the less fortunate to fend for themselves. False promises of equality and prosperity had quickly turned into violent oppression and poverty. The underground fighting pits had been only one of the more disturbing aspects that had popped us as a means for desperate bots to make a few credits while providing entertainment for the upper class. Kaon would also become infamous for its smelting pools where those who outspokenly disagreed with their Decepticon overlords had been put to death.

It had been a perfect storm of death, discontent, and violence. The perfect place for Megatron to make his bid for power.

They had been a couple of the lucky ones. Though, right now they certainly didn't feel like it.

They were confined to opposite cells across from one another once again. Sunstreaker sat on the edge of a low, metal berth bolted into the wall. It wasn't meant for comfort, not like the one he recharged in every night in their berthing. It was simply there so the detainee wasn't forced to recharge on the floor. His elbows were propped on his knees and his head cradled in his hands as he nursed a terrible headache. Ratchet had clocked him in the head with a compressor wrench hard enough to scramble his circuits. It had the desired effect, however, leaving his processor too rattled to put up any further resistance. Sides, hoping to spare himself the same fate, had managed to rein himself in enough to escape serious injury. Lucky mech.

Sideswipe circled restlessly around inside of his own cell, one hand to his mouth, nervously biting on his thumb. His leg still ached where Ratchet had rewired the relay that had been damaged while fighting with his brother. He didn't think either of them expected things to get so out of hand or get so complicated. He kept telling himself over and over that things shouldn't be this hard. There had to be a proper way to handle the situation. Unfortunately, there was no precedent. They were winging it on their own through completely uncharted territory. The only upside to their predicament was that Sunstreaker now seemed willing to work with him rather than against him towards a common goal.

A pained groan from the other cell pulled the silver twin's attention and he rolled over to grasp the bars that separated him from his brother. "You doing alright over there, Sunshine?"

"Don't call me that," the yellow mech groused. "I swear if we ever get out of here, I'm going back to the med bay and shoving that fragging wrench up Ratchet's aft port."

Sideswipe chuckled, "One thing at a time, dear brother."

"Yeah," Sunny agreed. "You're right." He dropped his hands and sighed. "What do you want to do? You know more about her than I do...at least she likes you."

It was Sides' turn to sigh, "She seemed to. At the very least she was friendly. Now..." the mech shook his head. "I don't know. Did you see her face?"

"She looked terrified." Sunny cursed under his breath, "This slagging mess is all my fault. I said some really fragged up things..."

"It's over with, Sunny." Sideswipe vented heavily, "Its done. The important thing is that she's alright. We've got time to figure this out. Right now we need to focus on getting out of here and doing some damage control. If this is hard for us I can only imagine what it must be like on her end."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker reluctantly agreed with a nod. "I know, I just..."

The sound of the brig door being unlocked ground the conversation to a sudden halt. Both mechs knew instantly who was coming to see them by the off-balance, shuffling gait. It was no surprise at all when Jazz stepped out of the shadows. His normally jovial demeanor was gone and in its place was the face of Third in Command. Given the mech's outgoing, laid back, fun-loving personality, it was easy to forget that Prime had entrusted him with a high leadership position. This was a stark reminder.

Though the mech's optics were hidden behind his visor, the twins could feel the intensity of his stare as he grabbed the chair, meant for a guard should there be need of one, and dragged it out to the middle of the floor between the cells. It made a loud screeching sound as the metal ground against the double-reinforced concrete of the floor. Without a word, the mech settled down upon it, and seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts in order. The twins knew he had spoken to Amy and waited nervously for whatever he might have to say.

"You know," Jazz started, "I let you two get away with a lot." His voice was measured, devoid of the accent and slang he'd adopted since coming to Earth. "I looked the other way when that crate of energon went missing from the rec area and was replaced with high grade despite the fact that Ironhide had to take Sam home that night because Bee was too overcharged to see straight. I didn't say a word when someone hacked into the information data base and changed the signatures on all of Mirage's recon reports to Chef Boyardee. I even 'forgot' to tell Prowl that all his missing data pads are shoved under Sideswipe's berth. Believe me, I get it." Jazz shook his head, "This war has been hard on everyone. Happiness is hard to come by and there's nothing wrong with having a little fun when you can. As long as it isn't interfering with our mission here and no one is getting hurt, I have no problem with it. However," He paused for a moment before continuing, "What I will not tolerate is the two of you tormenting one of our allies, someone under my direct command, for your amusement. That is completely unacceptable and I'm not just going to stand back and let it happen."

"You can't be slagging serious," Sunstreaker was up on his feet in a flash. "Tormenting?"

"No," Sideswipe denied, "It isn't what you think..."

"No?" Jazz raised a brow, "Then would one of you please enlighten me as to why it looks like the two of you have had it out for Petty Officer Doe since the moment she stepped off the plane because I'd love an explanation."

"We don't owe you an explanation," Sunny snarled.

"Really," Jazz looked at the mech, unimpressed. "So I don't suppose you have anything to say about dragging her to the other side of the island last night and dumping her there, either?"

"I didn't dump her!"

"Sunny," Sideswipe warned. He could feel his brother getting wound up all over again. "Look, Jazz, it's all a big misunderstanding. We know she was upset but Sunstreaker and I will fix it."

"Fix it?" Jazz leveled his gaze on the silver twin. "Let me tell you something, I've been all over this universe fighting this Primus-forsaken war. I've encountered a lot of different species. Some good, some bad, and some down right ugly. Humans, though, they're not all that different than we are where it matters. I suggest you remember that. They're small and they're fragile, but they have thoughts and emotions just like we do. You can't just play with them like they're toys. They get hurt. If you hadn't noticed, that femme was scared to death this morning. It's making her sick."

"She's sick?" A deep frown creased Sideswipe's faceplates, one hand moving to rest over his spark chamber. He caught his brother's concerned look and asked, "Is she alright?"

Jazz continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "I don't know what kind of scheme you two have going on and I don't really care but it stops now. You're going to leave Petty Officer Doe alone, do you understand?"

Sunstreaker snorted, "You can't tell us who we can and can't talk to on our own time."

Jazz shook his head at the yellow twin's stubbornness. "I've kept Optimus and Prowl out of this for now but if I hear or see you, either of you, messing with my charge again you're going to have a lot more to worry about than spending some time in the brig. Do you compute?"

"Oh," Sunstreaker let out a bark of laughter. "So she's your charge now?"

Jazz gave each mech a pointed look as he stood and returned the chair to where he found it. "I'm giving you the opportunity to do the right thing, here, before things get ugly."

Sunstreaker gave a derisive snort and turned to stomp back over to the berth and slump back down against the wall.

"What about you?" The TIC glared in Sides' direction. "Got anything smart to say?"

"Not particularly," Sideswipe solemnly shook his head. "Don't worry Jazz, we'll do the right thing."

"See that you do." With that, Jazz turned and limped back the way he came, the brig door opening once more before slamming shut and locking behind him.

"Sunny," the silver mech muttered, "We've got to get out of here."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy lay atop her bunk staring blankly at the ceiling. She'd traded out her uniform for her PT gear, a bright yellow t-shirt with 'NAVY' emblazoned across the back and left breast in reflective lettering and a pair of dark blue sweats with the same written down the sides of the legs in yellow. If she had to be miserable at least she could do so in comfort. She'd cried when she'd gotten back to her room. It was an ugly cry, the kind that leaves your face red and snotty, your head pounding, and your breath hitching for long afterward. Her whole body seemed to ache in time to her heart beat. The electric crackle in her chest continued unabated but had lost its painful edge. She was tired. It was a pervasive kind of exhaustion that seemed to reach all the way down to her bones.

Her thoughts were on the events in the med bay, on the twins. She'd been terrified but she'd also been worried. Enough so that she'd blurted out some of what plagued her mind to Jazz. The mech had seemed genuinely concerned, upset even. He'd wanted to know why she hadn't said anything sooner, before she'd worried herself sick. Of course, she'd left out a few details, mainly the part about how the twins had shocked her and now she felt like bottled lightning. She was pretty sure the Army doctor thought she was nuts and she didn't want Jazz to think the same. She'd never been one to confide in others but the words had kept tumbling out. In her near panic, she hadn't been able to appreciate how good it felt to talk to someone else. To have them actually listen. To have them act like they actually cared.

In the back of her mind, though, she worried for the twins. There was no rhyme or reason to it. She didn't know them very well. She wasn't sure what it was that drew her to them, even Sunstreaker who honestly scared her. When they were close, at least, when she'd been close to Sideswipe and not terrified out of her mind, the hum in her chest wasn't as bothersome or intense. It further fueled her suspicion that her current state had something to do with the two of them. Regardless, they'd looked horrible when she'd seen them and she hoped they were alright. She couldn't bring herself to dwell on that now, though.

She sighed and turned over, curling up onto her side. She snagged the standard-issue, gray wool blanket folded at the foot of her bed and pulled it up over herself, tucking the material under her chin. It seemed that ever since she'd come to Diego Garcia that the carefully crafted niche she'd manage to make for herself was being systematically ripped apart. She was surprised that it hurt as much as it did. She should have been used to it by now. It seemed that anytime she got comfortable and got into a routine that something would come along and foul it all up. It made her wonder why she even bothered. Maybe, she mused, things would be better after some time and distance. Closing her eyes, she slipped into a fitful sleep.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The once flourishing metropolis had seen better days. At one time it had been a hub of industry and production. Now, however, it was a shell of its former glory. Time and poor policies had ran the most successful companies out of business. Run-down, dilapidated factories and warehouses were plentiful, their skeletal, crumbling remains a grim reminder of all the city had lost in its economic depression. The industrial park had become a virtual ghost town. Even the vandals had ceased to gather there.

It was perfect.

The roar of a jet engine was followed closely by a shuddering landing and the sounds of transformation. Optics, the color of crimson, surveyed the area with antipathy. He hated this vile planet and the insects that infested it with every molecule of his being. He wanted nothing more than to subjugate it, to see it crumble beneath his will. The only obstacle between him and his goal were the Autobots, specifically Optimus Prime. The mech clung to his principles and honor as if they alone were enough to save him and this foolish planet. He would fail in the end. Just as he'd failed to save Cyberton. The humans would perish.

Heavy footfalls moved the mech toward the nearest abandoned building. With no effort, he raised one of the docking bay doors and ducked beneath it, allowing it to clatter back shut behind him. It took a moment for the aperture his optics to adjust to the much dimmer interior but when they did, he allowed them to sweep over the place. It had been an automobile factory at one point, manufacturing those primitive vehicles humans used to move around. The assembly line, long ago deserted, stretched out before him still and unmoving. Archaic robotics slowly rusting into oblivion sat poised and as if awaiting the word from their human masters to carry on with their work. With a disgusted sneer, the mech turned away, moving farther into the decrepit building.

He bellowed, "Starscream!"

There was a tense pause and then, "I'm here, master."

The mech turned in the direction of the voice, stalking his way deeper into the darkness. The scent of metal and ozone assaulted his olfactory nodes, becoming stronger the farther he went. He finally caught sight of the other mech scurrying around in the dark. "Report," he demanded.

"Ah, Lord Megatron," Starscream greeted in a mocking tone. "How good that you've returned. I hope you're sabbatical did you well..."

"I don't care for your pleasantries," Megatron dismissed his SIC with a wave of one wickedly clawed hand. Instead, he approached the far wall where the mech had been working to peer into the first of a line of of pods filled with a wet-looking, gelatinous material. Tubes and wires ran into the pods, connecting to a motionless protoform within. "What is the status of my army?"

"Well, you see, master," Starscream wrung his hands, "There was a reason this practice was abandoned and outlawed by the Council..."

Megatron rounded on the mech, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You must understand, protoforms, when artificially grown such as these, are sparkless shells. Without the presence of creators to pass on their combined spark signatures or the Allspark to animate them, they'll die." Starscream raised his hands to protect his faceplates as Megatron raised his hand to strike him. "Wait! Wait! Please, master! Let me explain! I may have a solution!"

"What sort of a solution?" Reluctantly, Megatron lowered his fist and threatened, "Fail me in this, Starscream..."

"I won't, master." Starscream eagerly promised, "That I can assure you."

 **End of Chapter 14**


	15. Chapter 15

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 15**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope that you're all having a great day. Mine has been so-so. I think I've got the 'blahs'. It's cold and snowy here and I'm just not that into it, you know? I'm a warm and sunny type of girl. You dig? Anyway, on we go! I've seen some of you speculating in your comments as to what you think will become of Amy. You have some great imaginations! Starscream, however, does not. There will be no 'human army', lol. That's all I'll say about that for the time being. Anyway, thank you to all who've added this story to your follows and faves. You're awesome! Extra special thanks to my reviewers: TheGreenWallFlower, PortgasDTatze, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Maria B, Retrokill, HenriettaDarlington, Edges05, MysticFire101, sakurawriter, AshelyOfChaos, rybkakoi, everchanging, jojoniles, griffin fath, and 'Guest'. You guys ROCK!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Three days had gone by much faster than Doe had thought they would, especially given the circumstances. She'd never really taken any leave in the two years she'd been in the Navy. She'd never really been sick before and it wasn't like she had anywhere to go or anyone to visit. She'd always forgone the offered leave periods, opting instead to stay onboard the ship and work. It was a tolerable arrangement with the added bonus that it kept her too busy to think of all her shipmates off enjoying times with their families that she'd never had the privilege to experience herself. She'd always heard that you couldn't miss something that you'd never had but it didn't mean she wasn't the slightest bit envious.

Still, it had been nice to have some time off to regroup even if most of that time had been plagued with worry, doubt, and second guessing herself. She'd spent most of her three days holed up in her room, only coming out to get chow and then it was right back to her little sanctuary. At first, she'd thought to embrace the time to catch up on some much needed sleep once the fuzzy, buzzy feeling inside of her had died down enough that she could concentrate on something else. It had been a futile endeavor. No sooner would she doze off than she'd be catapulted right into the dark abyss of her dreams. The incessant babble of her never to be seen companion rumbling in her ears as she continued to trek towards a seemingly impossible goal on the horizon. The bright shimmer on the edge of nothingness seeming to wink at her tauntingly, ever elusive and beyond her grasp. She'd awake from her slumber with a start each time, feeling more tired than she had before.

Jazz had come by to check on her that very first morning of her medically authorized vacation. He'd laughed at her concern over his pilgrimage to her side of the base given the rigid medical restrictions Ratchet had imposed on him. He'd shrugged it off, informing her it was his job to worry about her and not the other way around. His concern warmed her. She'd never had anyone fret over her before. She'd never felt like her presence, her existence even, had ever mattered to anyone. Jazz, though, had taken a seemingly genuine interest in her. It didn't seem forced or mandated. She was fairly certain no one had ordered him to keep tabs on her. As far as she was aware, the mech was acting completely on his own volition. She didn't understand why he appeared to care but she could appreciate it just the same.

After pleasantries were out of the way, she hadn't been able to stop herself from inquiring about the fate of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Her concern for the two brothers surprised even herself. In her sick-feeling, panicked state, she'd told Jazz everything when they'd been in the med bay. Well, not everything. She may have left out the part about how peculiar she'd felt since she'd been shocked by them. She'd already consulted a medical professional, after all, who had more or less brushed her off with a pamphlet. She didn't see a need to rehash that again when all tests had come back normal. She'd told him about her evening at the beach with Sunstreaker, though, and how it seemed Sideswipe seemed to pop up where ever she went. Though he hadn't been present, he'd already been aware of the situation that occurred with Epps upon her arrival as well as the altercation in the hangar during the initial briefing of the new recruits. He hadn't been a happy mech to say the least. Still, he'd tried to calm her and soothe her frazzled nerves and had told her not to worry, that he would take care of it.

"Don't worry about those two right now," he'd told her with a wink. "What's important is that my favorite femme get's some rest 'cause when those contractors are finished down there we're gonna do it big and I need ya head to be right."

He hadn't said any more about the twins. Instead, he'd sat himself down carefully upon the retaining wall along the building's perimeter, patting the space next to himself in invitation. Obediently, she'd sat down next to him. She could feel his optics roving over her in a concerned fashion, the tightness of his lip plates only confirming his worry. After a moment, he'd asked softly, "How are you, D? Really?"

Amy had been taken aback by the soft-spoken question for a moment and had simply sat there looking up at him, stupefied, until her brain finally kicked back into gear. "I-I'm fine," she'd stuttered. "I'm just tired, is all."

"That's a bunch of slag if I've ever heard it," Jazz shook his head. "Look, D, I know we haven't known each other that long but I want you to know that I consider you to be one of my friends. Where I'm from, friends look out for one another. They got each other's back. I can tell ya got somethin' rattling around in that head of your's but if you don't feel comfortable sharin' what's on your mind right now, that's alright." The mech gave her a pointed look, "Just know that if you decide that you ever need ta talk that I'm all audios. Or if ya just wanna, you know, hang out, bump some dope tunes, and forget about your worries, I'm always down for that, too."

"That's...thank you, Jazz. I-I really appreciate that." Amy had cautiously admitted, "I consider you a friend, too"

"Good," the mech grinned. "Then I'm doin' somethin' right." He'd gone stock still for a moment, his optics dimming behind his visor for a split second before brightening again. "Scrap," he cursed. "Ratchet's comming me. We had an appointment, apparently." Jazz shuddered, "Its probably in my best interest to start heading back."

Amy watched as the mech carefully pushed himself back up onto his feet, wavering for a moment to regain his balance. "Are you okay to go back by yourself? Should I call someone?"

"No!" Jazz had vehement denied, then chuckled. "What did I tell you about worrying about me? I'll be fine. Just can't let The doc catch me out of bounds. I don't think he'd actually weld me to the floor but I'd rather not take the chance, you know? Anyway, I'll swing back by this afternoon and check on ya."

Amy shook her head, "Jazz, you don't have to."

"Yes, I do." He insisted. "Friends, remember?"

"Yeah," Amy nodded. "Friends."

"Now," Jazz ordered, "You go get some rest and I'll go wrestle Ratchet into submission."

It was Amy's turn to chuckle, "My money's on the doctor."

"D!" Jazz dramatically slapped his hands over his chest plates in a show of disbelief. "You wound me!"

She hadn't been too surprised when the Army Private on barracks duty had knocked on her door late that evening, telling her one of the Autobots was waiting outside to see her. She'd figured it was Jazz coming to check on her one last time before bed. She was actually surprised he'd been able to pull one over on the CMO. Ratchet was a sharp bot and not easily swayed where medical matters were concerned. When she'd made her way downstairs and out of the building, however, she'd been a bit startled to find the Autobot's SIC standing at the curb, his back ramrod straight, door wings held high, and his hands clasped behind his back. He was looking out over the parking area, seeming to survey it carefully while he awaited her arrival.

A flutter of nervousness began in Amy's gut. She'd never really had a chance to speak to Prowl. The mech always seemed too busy and too overworked to engage in any type of pleasant conversation. He gave off an aura of seriousness and his entire existence seemed to revolve around his duties with little time allotted for anything else. He simply wasn't the type of guy you'd seek out to make small talk about the weather with and his presence made Amy slightly anxious.

Amy swallowed the lump in her throat, "Sir? You wanted to see me?"

Prowl made a smooth about-face to look down upon the woman. His door wings twitched ever so slightly at the movement and his lip plates quirked up almost imperceptibly at the corners, otherwise he remained rigidly still. "Miss Doe," he greeted with a polite tilt of his head. "Please, just call me Prowl. I do hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Uh, no." Amy shook her head. "Not at all."

"Good." The SIC sounded slightly relieved and continued, "Jazz asked me if I could come by and check up on you. He would have come himself but it seems he's landed himself in a bit of trouble with Ratchet once again."

"Oh, no." Amy bit at her lip worriedly. "Nothing too serious, I hope? I told him I was fine and not to bother."

"I wouldn't worry yourself over Jazz too much." Prowl actually smirked as he said, "That mech can talk himself out of pretty much any situation. Anyway," the mech continued, "In his absence he asked that I give you this. He informed me your's was lost the other night."

Amy looked to the mech's outstretched hand to find a brand new, very expensive cellphone still in the box. Her eyes widened, "Oh, no. It's too much. I-I can't accept that."

"You can," Prowl nodded, "And you will. Communication is critical to our mission here and furthermore, Jazz won't rest easy until he knows he has some way of getting in contact with you. I insist that you take it. I won't accept no for an answer."

Reluctantly, Amy took the package. "Thank you."

"Jazz took the liberty of preprogramming it with important numbers you may find useful." Prowl continued, "His contact information is also in there and he asks that you contact him at your earliest convenience. Mine is in there, as well, as is Prime's. Should you have any need of assistance or any concerns do not hesitate to reach out and let us know."

"That's..." Amy was slightly taken aback by the offer. She honestly couldn't understand where the interest and concern for her wellbeing was coming from. She'd experienced more caring in the short time she'd been stationed on Diego Garcia than she had over the entire course of her twenty years of being alive. The fact that it was coming from gigantic robotic beings from another planet threatened to blow her human mind. "That's very kind and generous of you."

"It's our pleasure," the mech straightened back up into a stiff posture. "Also," he added hesitantly. "I wanted to ask a favor of you, if you wouldn't mind."

"A favor?" Surprised, Amy looked wide-eyed up at the mech, wondering what use she could possibly be. "Uh, sure. What do you need?"

The mech tilted his head back, staring up at the sky for a long moment, sucking a great breath of air down into his intakes before cycling it out again slowly. He addressed the small, human femme, "I've known Jazz for a very long time, since before this Primus-forsaken war ever started. He's a good mech and a very good friend but he's...he's lost a lot, Miss Doe. I won't go into detail because it isn't my place. I simply want you to know where this is coming from."

Amy wasn't sure what to say, if she should say anything, so she settled for nodding in understanding.

Prowl continued on, "I wasn't here when it happened but he very nearly died at Mission City. When I arrived I was told he was extremely upset that Ratchet hadn't just let him pass on. I'm not sure if the Cybertronian belief in the afterlife is similar to your own but, he has a lot waiting for him over on the other side." The mech shook his head, "He hasn't been himself for a very long time...he's broken right now and feeling useless. But," The SIC trailed off for a moment before seeming to regroup his thoughts. He smiled at the woman and stated simply, "Jazz has taken to you."

Confused, Amy blinked up at the mech. Not sure what he was getting at. "I don't- I don't understand."

"He cares about you, Miss Doe." Prowl continued, "You've given him something to, I guess, 'look forward to', is the best analogy. He's needed this for a very long time."

Amy opened her mouth only to snap it shut again. She shook her head and tried again, "I'm not really sure what you're wanting me to do here."

"All I'm asking," the mech sincerely stated, "Is that if Jazz wants to fuss over you, that you let him."

Doe had continued to contemplate the SIC's words long after he'd left. Even long after she'd dutifully used her new cell phone to call Jazz and check in as she'd promised Prowl she would. The mech had seemed honestly happy to hear from from her. They'd chatted for nearly an hour and a half about everything and about nothing. It was nothing too heavy or too personal but it was comfortable, almost as if they'd known each other for ages. Eventually, it had come to an end when Jazz, noticing the time, had decided she needed some sleep. Reluctantly, she'd agreed and bid the mech a good night. Though, she didn't sleep well that night.

The next two days had followed a similar pattern, minus any surprise visits from Prowl.

Now, stepping out of the barracks in the light of a brand new morning, her uniform freshly laundered and pressed, she felt better than she had since her arrival on the island. Although, that wasn't really saying much. She'd made her was to the chow hall without incident, actually opting to stand in line for an omelet instead of her usual grab-and-go type fare. She took her time eating, not rushing as she usually did, before returning her tray and utensils to the scullery to be cleaned. There was a small convenience-type store/stall inside of the chow hall and she stopped on her way out to purchase a couple chewy chocolate chip granola bars for later. She stuffed them into one of her pockets before making her way back outside and heading toward the shuttle stop.

As she settled down onto the bench to wait, a quick check of her watch told her she was running right on time. Even a little early. To be honest, she was looking forward to getting back to work. She wasn't the type that liked to remain idle for too long. She was more than a little curious to see what kind of progress the contractors had made on the Dungeon in her absence. Jazz had been quite excited at the prospect of her getting to see it. He'd had them working around the clock down there in 12-hour shifts. Speaking of Jazz...she was also looking forward to seeing the mech face-to-face. She would have been lying if she said his friendly, almost fatherly, concern hadn't made her stay in the barracks more bearable. She'd have to find someway to thank him for that.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard the growl of the high performance engine coming down the street until it was too late. It wasn't until the distinct sound of a transformation met her eardrums that she realized she had company.

"Ames!" The silver twin seemed to fall all over himself as he clattered over the sidewalk to fall on his knees before the human woman. "You're okay!"

Doe wasn't even given a chance to respond, or flee, or do anything at all before a pair of large metallic arms encased her and crushed her into a broad, equally metallic, chest. Parts and pieces of the mech's chassis dug into her much smaller and softer body uncomfortably. She tried to shift to lessen the pressure but it was like being relentlessly squeezed inside an enormous vice. The air was pressed from her lungs as the hug intensified and she pounded at the mech's frame as white spots began to dance in front of her eyes and the heat in her chest flared painfully to life. "Can't breathe," she managed to gasp.

"You're smashing her, bit brain."

From where Doe was being hugged to death, she could see the briefest flash of bright yellow armor in the gap between Sideswipe's arm and chassis. Her struggles intensified.

"Oh, slag." Sideswipe immediately released her. He apologized, "I'm sorry, Ames. I didn't realize..."

Doe gasped for breath. Both hands coming up to press against the writhing in her chest. Her eyes darted between the pair of mechs. She was relieved to see them both looking unharmed but she was also frightened. She backed away slowly. The movement didn't go unnoticed by the silver twin.

"Oh, no, Ames..." He inched forward on his knees toward her. "No, no, no...please. Just wait, alright? We just want to talk to you," he began, sounding desperate. "Jazz told us you were sick and we were really worried about you." He looked to his brother for confirmation of the claim. "Right, Sunny?"

The yellow mech nodded in agreement, "Right."

"We wanted to come check on you but, uh," Sides chuckled nervously. "We were detained."

"De-detained?" Amy stuttered, still glancing anxiously between the two brothers.

"Yeah," Sides nodded. "No biggie," he added quickly, "But we're free now and wanted to make sure you were alright. And also," he fidgeted, "Sunny has something that he wants to say."

Warily, she eyed Sunstreaker. "He-he does?"

"Yeah," Sunny interrupted. "I do." With a light shove, he moved his brother out of the way. His lip plates curled up into a sneer as he studied the ground where the other mech had knelt. He muttered something under his breath about filth and scratches but took a knee anyway. Venting heavily, he addressed the woman he'd been so cruel to a few days before. "Look, Squishie...I'm not very good at this whole apology thing but, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I was pissed off and it wasn't really your fault. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I didn't mean to scare you or make your eyes leak or any of that other slag. I acted like a complete glitch to you and you didn't deserve that so, yeah...I'm sorry."

"We're both sorry," Sides interjected. "We truly are."

Amy studied them for a moment and decided they seemed sincere. Even Sunstreaker, who seemed to be waiting tensely for something to happen. Sunstreaker's actions had hurt her but she wasn't one to hold a grudge. Nothing good ever came of it. Finally, she nodded. "Apology accepted."

"Thank the Maker," One could almost feel the relief Sunstreaker radiated at those two words. He pushed himself back up to his feet and looked down at the tiny human femme with a relieved expression on his face plates. "Thanks, Squishie. I mean it. No hard feelings?"

"Sure," Amy murmured. "No hard feelings."

"We kind of have something else we need to talk to you about. But," Sideswipe added cautiously, "You have to promise not to tell Jazz."

"What's going on?" Suspicion had crept into Amy's voice. "Why can't I tell Jazz?"

Sides tried to soothe her concern. "Just for now. Just until we can get back into his good graces."

"He threatened to have us reformatted if he caught us talking to you." Sunstreaker snorted. "I'd like to see him try."

Eyes full of surprise, Amy asked, "He did?"

"Oh, yeah." Sides chuckled. "He was dead serious, too. So, if you could not mention to him that we had this conversation, at least for the time being, that'd be great."

"Oh," Amy nodded, "Alright, I mean, I don't want anyone getting in trouble."

"I knew we could count on you, Ames!" Sideswipe beamed at her. "See, bro? I told you she was awesome!"

Sunstreaker merely hummed in agreement before leaning back to rest against a light pole. The metal groaned precariously against his mass but remained solid. "As much as I'm enjoying standing out here, the Squishie has to work soon, Sides, so if you wanna maybe..." The mech twirled his pointer fingers in a sign speed things up.

"Right," Sideswipe tilted his head in understanding, taking one last look at his brother and receiving a nod to continue. "Ames, look, we know you've been feeling kind of...weird...since you got here."

Amy gaped at the mech, "You do?"

"Yeah," Sideswipe confirmed. "We've been feeling it, too."

"You have?" Amy glared back and forth between the mechs incredulously. "I thought I was losing my mind! What's causing it? Can it be fixed?"

"You aren't losing your mind," the silver twin confirmed. "It's kind of hard to explain exactly but I think we can all help each other out. If you're willing, that is?"

"Yes!" Amy nodded vigorously. "Of course! What do I need to do?"

Sunstreaker smirked, "Eager, isn't she?"

"Sunny..." Sideswipe warned. His twin merely shrugged and so he focused his attention back onto the woman. He tried to find the simplest way to explain things to the femme without sending her into a panic. "Sometimes...uh...sometimes this type of thing will happen when two bots, er, people...in this case three...are meant to be, uh...friends."

"Friends?" Dumbstruck, Amy looked between the two mechs. "I don't understand. I mean, Jazz and I are friends and I've never had this issue with him."

"Thank, Primus." Sunstreaker growled, "Talk about an awkward situation...I like Jazz but not that much."

"That's, uh...that's kind of different, Ames." Sideswipe chuckled. "I mean, yeah, Jazz is your friend. No doubt there but, our situation is a little more, eh, complicated, I guess you might say."

"Okay..." Amy drawled. "But I still don't get it." She motioned toward her chest where the buzzing was in full swing but not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been. "What's the deal with the...?"

"Right, so, uh..." Sideswipe looked to his brother for help but received only an amused snort as the other mech fished a cloth out of subspace and began to slowly buff his armor. Apparently, he was on his own. "Alright," he began again. "So, uh, Cybertronians have sparks in here." He tapped his chest plates. "They're kinda like, uh, well, no, they aren't like that at all...They're...well, they're sparks. I don't know what else to call them...big balls of glowy-energy. They're what keep us alive and make us who we are. Are you with me so far?"

"Okay..." Amy nodded and rubbed one hand over her own chest, confusion etched upon her face. "Glowy-energy balls..."

"Sunny and I are twins." Sideswipe continued, "That means we literally share a spark. We each have half of the same one. It also means that we, um, share other things, as well...like our, uh...friends."

Sunstreaker laughed out loud, quickly smothering the sound with a cough.

Sideswipe shot his brother a death glare which didn't phase the mech in the slightest before continuing. "As I was saying, yeah, we share things. So, uh, let's say I'm cruising along one day and bump into this really nice femme that Epps happens to be showing around one morning and we're both literally shocked by the other and, uh, my spark decides we should be, um, friends...Sunny would naturally want to be her friend, too, and, uh..."

"Oh for the love of Cybertron," Sunstreaker pushed himself off of the post and sauntered over. "You're confusing the Pit out of her, Sideswipe. Look at her face." Sunny shook his head and knelt before the woman once again. "Let's cut to the chase, Squishie. The three of us, we have some kind of weird spark connection. It shouldn't even be possible because you're a human and, as far as I know, humans are sparkless. We don't know how it happened or why but that's where we're at right now. We've never had this happen to us before so we're just as confused as you are. That's kind of why I was pissed off about the whole thing. It doesn't make any logical sense. Sideswipe's right, though." He gave his brother an irritated glance. "When something like this happens it supposedly means you're meant to be 'friends' with the other affected party. And," the mech reluctantly admitted, "Seeing as Sides and I are twins, I'd like for us to be friends, as well. Everything we've ever heard or read or seen about this kind of thing suggests that being close to your...friends...can help with the energy fluctuations until the situation can be," the mech cleared his vocal processor, "properly settled."

"So," Amy tried to put everything together the best she could, "You're telling me that if we all hang out together that we'll all feel better?"

"In very simple terms, Squishie." Sunstreaker nodded. "Yes."

Sideswipe asked, "How do you feel right now?"

Amy took a moment to focus on the way her body felt. The electric feeling was still in her chest but it had settled into a warm, resonate hum. It was a distinctly pleasant sensation, enough so that it brought a faint blush to her cheeks. "I feel great, actually," she confessed.

"Good." Sides grinned and threw a knowing glance at his brother who seemed less tense now than he had in weeks. "So do we." He looked at the woman expectantly, "Does this mean that you'll, uh, hang out with the two of us?"

"Of course," Amy agreed. "I mean, I guess. If you think it will help."

"I think it'll help more than you know," Sideswipe enthusiastically agreed. "Right, Sunny?"

"Right," the yellow mech parroted, rising from where he had knelt once again. His bright blue optics swept up and down the street and he frowned. "Hey, Squishie, that your ride?"

Amy turned to see the shuttle bus making its approach. "Yep, that's it."

Sunstreaker made a sound of disgust, "How can you stand to ride in that hideous thing?" His nasal plates scrunched up, "Are those diesel fumes?"

Sideswipe laughed, "Horrible isn't it? I don't know how she does it. She never lets me give her a ride."

"It isn't that bad," Amy defended as the bus pulled up to the curb and opened its doors. She tried her best to ignore the fact that the bus driver was openly gawking at the strange sight the three of them must have made as they waited at the stop. "It gets me where I need to go."

"Whatever you say, Squishie." Sunny shuddered in revulsion as the bus belched out a cloud of thick, black smoke. "That is fragging foul."

Amy rolled her eyes, straightened her cover, and marched toward the waiting shuttle. "Sorry if it offends but, I have to go."

'Listen, Ames..." Sideswipe stopped her before she could disappear inside the vehicle. The femme looked up at him expectantly and he felt his spark turn over. "When you get off tonight, why don't you come find us in the rec hangar? It's our off night of patrol so we'll both be around. We can maybe think of something fun to do together this evening, all three of us. What do you say?"

Amy swallowed thickly, suddenly nervous. "I'll, uh, I'll think about it."

"Fair enough," the mech gave her a soft smile. "Have a good day today, regardless. Don't let Jazz work you too hard."

"Take it easy, Squishie," Sunstreaker interjected.

"Thanks," Amy blushed. "You two...try not to get into trouble."

"Easier said than done," Sideswipe remarked as the bus' doors folded closed and it pulled away from the curb. He vented contentedly. That had gone surprisingly well. Much better than he'd expected it to. He turned to say as much to his brother only to find him glaring in irritation. 'What? What'd I do?"

"We share things," Sunstreaker mocked, "Like, uh, friends...are you serious?"

Sideswipe demanded, "What was I supposed to say? She doesn't have a clue about sparks or bonds or interfacing. Plus, what I've seen suggests that 'arrangements' like this are frowned on in mainstream human society. I didn't want to scare her off. I thought 'friends' was a good start."

"Ugh," Sunstreaker snarled in revulsion, "I don't even want to know how you know what types of 'arrangements' humans find acceptable."

"Well, you may want to look into it." Sides pressed, "I'm just saying, if there was ever a time to sate your curiosity, this would be it. You might be pleasantly surprised, bro," Sideswipe teased. "The mechanics of it aren't all that different from what we're used to."

"Will you shut your fragging face?" Sunstreaker transformed and peeled off down the road, continuing their conversation on comm. "I apologized to her and I agreed to be civil towards her and spend time in her presence. That's it."

"Uh huh," Sideswipe was right on his brother's back bumper. "Sure. If you say so. Why can't you just admit it?"

The yellow Lamborghini groused, "Admit what?"

"That you like her," Sides teased in a sing-song voice. "That you want to like her really, really badly."

Sunny growled, "I swear on Pillars of Creation, if you don't shut your slagging mouth-"

"Sunny and Amy sitting in a tree," Sideswipe sang, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

"That's it!" Sunstreaker slammed on his breaks, the smell of burnt rubber and the squeal of hot tires on asphalt breaking the stillness of an otherwise peaceful morning. Transforming in the middle of the street, he turned to intercept the silver Lamborghini that followed in his tracks. "I'm about to rearrange your fragging face!"

Sideswipe transformed as well, his intakes wheezing so hard from laughing that he was practically helpless when his brother tackled him right there in the street. Yes, he mused to himself as he blocked a couple of half-sparked punches Sunny threw his way, this had gone much, much better than he thought it would.

 **End of Chapter 15**


	16. Chapter 16

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 16**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a fantastic day. I'm doing quite well, myself. I'm happy to be getting another chapter of this story up. It's ended up being a two-parter...it turned HUGE really fast. So, you'll have to wait till next post to see how things work out, ha ha. At any rate, I'm really happy that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves so far. Many thanks to those who've added this story to their alerts and faves. Extra special thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: ElleGirl19, Knightnerd, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, sakurawriter, TheGreenWallFlower, Edges05, 99luftballonsx.o.x, jojoniles, Mysine, MysticFire101. You guys are the greatest!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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Petty Officer Doe arrived at her duty station, still pondering her strange run-in with the twins. Honestly, a lot of what they said didn't really make all that much sense to her. She knew they had sparks- she'd overheard Ratchet scolding Jazz about the strain he was putting on his own by not following orders- but she wasn't sure what, if anything, having a spark had to do with someone being friends with someone else. Even if it did, why would she have been affected by some weird Cybertronian social phenomena? Like Sunstreaker had so aptly pointed out, humans were sparkless. To be truthful, she wasn't really even that clear on what a spark actually was. Beyond the small tidbits of medical jargon she'd caught from Ratchet's tirades and Sideswipe's less than coherent explanation that his and Sunstreaker's were telling them that the three of them were meant to be friends, she was still more or less clueless.

Thinking back on the odd conversation, she was getting the distinct feeling that she was missing some very important piece in this whole equation. It was like being on the outside of an inside joke. Everyone was laughing, but she was having a hard time catching on to the punchline. Not that she was opposed to being friends with the two mechs. She could do that, no problem. She was, by nature, a friendly person once she got over her initial unease around new people. Prior to the 'beach incident' she'd had a fairly comfortable rapport going with Sideswipe. Though she'd accepted Sunstreaker's apology and the mech had seemed sincere, she knew it would take time for her not to be on constant defense around him. It was an unfortunate side effect of growing up the way she had. Forgiving was one thing, forgetting was an entirely different monster. God knew there were things she wished she could forget.

Then, of course, there was the way Sideswipe had asked her to come seek them out later once she was off duty. Something about the way his words had come out, or maybe the hopeful look on his face, or maybe even the fact that Sunstreaker seemed to be waiting just as expectantly for an answer as his brother had made her feel nervous and slightly anxious. For some reason, in her overworked and confused mind, it had almost felt like she was being asked out on some weird type of date by the two mechs. Not that she'd been on many dates, mind you, afraid of rejection as she was, but still. That was the impression she got. It was a ridiculous notion, really, if she thought about it. After all, they'd just finished asking her if she'd be interested in hanging out given their apparent 'connection', whatever that meant, and she had agreed. It wasn't a stretch to believe that they'd want to make some sort of plans to do so. She was over thinking things again, as she was so apt to do.

Strangely, though, she did feel a lot better. That much it seems Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had been right about. She wasn't sure if her improved physical condition and her recent proximity to the twins were mutually exclusive or not but if it helped...well, she could use all the help she could get. The electricity in her chest no longer felt like it was crackling wildly, snapping against her breast bone. It was now more of a warm, pleasant buzz. If nothing else, she felt it was a big enough improvement that she'd be able to actually function and think clearly again without worry that it was the onset of a massive coronary. Just to know that she wasn't going crazy with stress made her feel like an immense weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Doe stepped into the freight elevator and pressed the button to take her down below the ground. She'd contemplate the twins later. Right now, however, it was time to do her job and check in with Jazz. Despite speaking with him on the phone at least twice a day over the last three days, she'd still missed the guy and was excited to be getting back to work. Her mind began to wander onto random topics as the elevator car made its slow descent. By her estimate and the length of the elevator ride, she mentally approximated the Dungeon to be three to four stories beneath the earth. Plenty deep enough to hide, say, alien robots from outer space. Maybe that was it, she mused to herself. Perhaps Jazz was building some kind of swanky, underground robot condos. Considering the sparse amenities available to the bots on base, she was certain the mech could make a killing if he decided to go into the real estate business. She was actually still giggling at that very thought when the elevator doors finally rolled open to announce she'd arrived at her destination.

"D!" Jazz was nearly to the elevator as Amy stepped out. "I was hopin' that was you." He gave the young woman a critical once over before giving a nod of satisfaction. "Lookin' good," he grinned. "Being on vacation must suit you. How ya feelin'?"

"I...I feel a lot better," she answered honestly. "I'm happy to be back to work, though. I've actually never had any time off before. It was kind of weird. I didn't know what to do with myself."

"Never?" Jazz looked at the woman with a raised brow plate.

"Nope," Amy confirmed. "I guess I'm a bit of a workaholic."

"Everyone needs a break once in a while." Jazz stated. "Sounds like you were long overdue. I was under the impression that your military offered leave periods around certain holidays and deployments. Ya know, time to catch up with the family before throwin' yourself back into the fray."

"Oh," Amy nodded, "They do. I've just never taken any." She laughed but there wasn't any humor in it. "I, um, I guess I don't really have anyone to 'catch up' with. So...I never really saw much point taking time off just to be by myself."

"Ah, D..." Jazz instinctively knew there was some sort of tragedy attached to that statement. It was in the slight waver of her smile and the way her eyes glossed over for just a split second before she quickly blinked the tears away. "I'm sorry..."

"No," she quickly brought a halt to whatever the mech had been going to say. "It's fine. Hey," she quickly changed the subject. "I don't think I ever really thanked you for the new phone."

"No thanks needed." Jazz wasn't going to force her to talk about it if she didn't really want to, though he was dying to know more about the little femme. He let the conversation slide. "What kind of a mech would I be if I didn't make sure ya had everything that ya need?"

"Yeah, well..." Amy swallowed thickly. Why did he have to sound so honestly concerned and sincere? She didn't know what to do with that. It made her emotional. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. Not just the phone," she quickly added. "Thanks for taking the time out to check in on me and make sure I was okay...even it it did get you into some trouble with Ratchet. It's, uh, no one's ever really bothered that much before. It might not seem like much to you but, it meant a lot to me. So...yeah. Thank you."

"Aww...get over here scraplet." Jazz carefully knelt down, steadying himself, stretching his arms wide. "Come on," he encouraged with a flick of his wrists, "bring it on in."

Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to leave the mech hanging, Amy ignored the odd looks they were getting from the contractors who still labored in the space, and stepped into the circle of the mech's arms. Her ribs still ached from Sideswipe's enthusiastic, vice-grip of a greeting and she tried to mentally prepare herself to be crushed once again. Jazz, however, seemed more than aware of the fragility of her physique in comparison to his own, exerting just enough pressure to hold her securely but not enough to be uncomfortable. He was warm and solid, much larger than she was, but that didn't stop her from attempting to awkwardly return his embrace.

"I told ya," the mech softly murmured as he rubbed comforting circles on her back, "We're friends, practically family by now. I'll always have your back."

After a long moment, Amy pulled away. She sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes with one of her sleeves. "So, uh, are you going to show me around this place or what? You seemed really excited about it on the phone."

"Sure thing," Jazz smiled softly, flicking the woman's hat with one finger and causing it to sit cockeyed on her head, and gingerly got back to his feet. "You're gonna love it."

"Well," She tipped her head back, taking in the new, bright high bay lighting fixtures that had been installed overhead. It was a huge improvement over the dingy, yellow, flickering the previous fixtures had provided. "I certainly love the fact that I don't feel like I'm going to be thrown into a grand mal seizure. If nothing else, I'm grateful they changed out the lights."

"I can do better than a couple new lightbulbs." Jazz winked at her. "Prepare to have your mind blown."

Slowly, they worked their way through the space with Jazz pointing out the work that had been done as well as what still needed to be done. It was a far cry from the horror movie-esque torture dungeon it had previously resembled. The concrete floor had been acid washed, smoothed and covered in a beige epoxy that made it look shiny and new. The walls and ceiling supports, too, had been refurbished and painted a clean white instead of the dull, peeling gray it had been. The huge room had also been partitioned off into sections. In one glassed-in, sealed area, it appeared that contractors were putting together some sort of computer data server center. She assumed it went hand-in-hand with the banks of computers, radar tracking, and other equipment another group were busy installing. Yet another group of contractors were busy installing a gigantic, real-time, electronic global threat map on one of the walls in the main area of the space.

"Wow," Amy breathed, "I can't believe they did all this in three days."

"There's still a whole lot to be done." Jazz laughed, "Its amazing what can be accomplished when the Secretary of Defense, himself, gets involved. John Keller is alright in my book. But," Jazz winked at her, "This isn't even the best part."

Amy looked up at him, wide-eyed. "There's more?"

"Oh, yeah." Jazz nodded. "Wait till ya get a load of this. C'mon. This way."

He led her deep into the very back of the space to a set of blast doors. They, too, were brand new. The old ones had been rusted completely shut. She watched in fascination as Jazz pressed his hand against a blue, glowing pad located about halfway up the wall. It seemed to scan over his appendage before giving a beep of recognition and activating the doors. As they opened, Amy felt her eyes widen even more. She knew the place was big, but not this big.

"This area is highly secure," Jazz commented. "The only people with clearance to get back here are me, you, and the other Autobots. Access is controlled with bio markers. Ratchet's been given permission to take a couple samples to get you set up in the system. Nothing too invasive, I promise. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Amy agreed. "That's fine."

"That's what I'm talkin' about," Jazz clapped his hands together and stopped just outside of another door. "Then allow me to present...your office."

"Oh my gosh..." Amy pressed a hand over her mouth in surprise as Jazz palmed the door open. "It's huge..."

"Well," Jazz admitted, "Technically, its our office. I didn't think you'd mind."

"No," Amy shook her head. "It's great!" Her eyes roamed over the space. The main floor was obviously meant to accommodate the mech judging by the sheer size of the custom made, heavy duty, office furniture. Along one wall there was a set of stairs that led to a large loft area. Curious, Amy looked back to Jazz and received a nod to go check it out. Excitedly, she ascended the stairs which brought her up to optic level with the mech. She turned an pointed a finger at herself and asked, "Mine?"

"Yep," Jazz confirmed with a grin. "To do with as ya see fit."

Amy laughed as she caught sight of the speaker system that had been installed into the walls and ceiling. "This is what you wanted a surround sound system for?"

"What can I say?" The mech shrugged, "Pleasant company and good tunes make the work day go faster. Now, come on. There's more to see."

Obediently, Amy climbed back down the stairs and followed Jazz back out into the corridor. There were other rooms and spaces along their path that Jazz pointed out as being for things like maintenance, machinery, and storage. They'd had the foresight to install a restroom as well as a 'waste room'- Amy was assuming it was the Cybertonian equivalent- which was definitely convenient. They made their way through two more secure doors and finally came to another, smaller set of blast doors.

As Jazz palmed the door open, he gave the young woman a wink. "This is where the money is."

Stepping into the brightly lit room, Amy found herself staring up at the most enormous, most complicated looking computer system she'd ever laid eyes on. It obviously wasn't meant for human use. She felt like an ant standing in the middle of some high tech, sci-fi mission control center built for giants. The console wrapped around three of the room's four walls and came within maybe three or four feet of butting up against the very high ceiling. Several glowing monitors scrolled rapidly with strange symbols and text she couldn't even hope to understand. Others displayed what looked like maps of the universe, some that she recognized as Earth's own solar system and others she could only guess at.

She blinked up at it in awe. "What is it?"

"It's a Teletraan System, Miss Doe."

The measured voice of the Autobot's SIC startled her. She turned at the sound, only just noticing she and Jazz were no longer alone. She'd been so enthralled she hadn't even noticed Prowl, Prime, and Ratchet waiting in the wings. "I'm sorry," Amy shook her head, "I'm not familiar with that."

"We don't expect you to be, Petty Officer Doe," Optimus Prime rumbled as he approached. "All in due time. I promise you it's much simpler than it looks." He smiled down on the woman. "I was informed that you were ill. It's good to see you looking well this morning."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed and offered her a small, secretive smile. "Welcome back. I can assure you that you were missed."

"Th-thank you," Amy stammered. "I appreciate it. I'm happy to be back." She turned her attention back to the mammoth computer. "Where did you guys get this thing...uh...Teletraan?"

Prime spoke up to answer, "Ironhide and I were able to salvage this one from a wrecked Cybertronian vessel located beneath the Bering Glacier in Alaska prior to your arrival. We're fortunate that it was still operational after being offline for such a significant amount of time."

Amy asked, "What does it do? Is it, uh...like you guys?"

"It isn't alive, if that's what you're asking," Ratchet chimed in with an amused snort. "You don't have to worry about offending its delicate sensibilities or anything like that."

Amy sighed, "Well, that's a relief."

"It's semi-intelligent," Jazz offered. "Teletraan has extensive communication and monitoring abilities which we're gonna need if we hope to design any type of viable defense against the Decepticons here on Earth. It's capable of runnin' all the basic systems in a ship or operations center if you let it but it's still a very hands-on operation. When it comes down to, it can only do what you tell it to."

Amy watched the thing with a critical eye as it seemed to cycle through maps of the universe ones again. "What's it doing now?"

"It's reorienting itself," Prowl provided. "Trying to determine its current position."

The woman nodded in understanding. "Like...recalibrating a GPS?"

"You got it!" Jazz smiled down at her, "I think you're really gonna dig it, D. Imagine all the systems and programs that you used to do your job back on the carrier to coordinate the fleet all rolled up into one giant supercomputer but instead of keeping an eye on the surrounding ocean, you're keeping an eye on the surrounding universe."

"Is that..." Amy gaped up at the mech. "Is that even possible?"

Jazz nudged the woman, "That's what you and me are gonna find out."

"Unfortunately," Prime added, "There are still a few minor bugs to work out. It was under ice for quite some time and did suffer some very minor damage. Thankfully, none of the main systems were affected. By the time the contractors complete their rehab, however, it should be fully operational."

"Speaking of which," Ratchet pushed off the wall where he'd been leaning and approached. "Would you mind terribly if I went ahead and collected samples from you to start processing for full facility access while I'm here? Jazz said he would explain."

"He did," Amy confirmed. "That would be fine."

"Excellent." Ratchet knelt down next to the woman and began pulling equipment out of a subspace compartment. "This won't hurt a bit. Miss Doe, if you would please, open up and say 'ah'..."

"Ahh..." Amy opened her mouth as instructed giving the CMO a chance to swab the inside of her mouth with a cotton-tipped applicator.

"Very good." Ratchet took what looked like a giant tablet of some sort and used it to scan her palm prints as well as her eyes. He then pricked the tip of one of her fingers for a small droplet of her blood. Ratchet smiled at her, "That just about does it. Once the rest of the security measures are in place, these samples should be sufficient to allow you access to all areas in the facility once I get them processed and entered into the system."

"Sounds great," Amy smiled at the mech. "Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure." Ratchet loaded all of his equipment, samples included, back into subspace and stood. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have some tasks in the med bay that need tending to. Jazz," he gave the mech a stern look, "I'll see you later."

"Thanks," Jazz rolled his optics behind his visor, "Can't wait, doc."

"We should be going, as well." Prime vented wearily. "Prowl and I have a meeting with our, ahem...prestigious National Security Advisor to prepare for."

"He is quite vexing, isn't he?" Prowl twitched, "And highly illogical."

"Most politicians are," Amy quietly mumbled to herself.

Prime had caught her softly muttered quip and rumbled with laughter, "A very astute observation, Petty Officer Doe." He inclined his head toward the woman. "It was lovely to see you again. We'll leave you two to get settled."

"Jazz, Miss Doe..." Prowl bid the two of them farewell as he followed the Autobot's leader out of the space.

Once they were gone, Jazz turned to Amy expectantly. "Well, what do you think?"

Amy continued to look around the room, still in a state of amazement. "This place is incredible. I don't think I can call it a dungeon anymore."

"I'm glad you like it," Jazz laughed. "If you're up to it, I say we head back to the office and talk ambiance."

For the rest of the day, the two fell into a close, comfortable camaraderie. He'd briefly explained what Teletraan did and what that meant for her in terms of her duties. She got the gist that it was the pretty similar her previous position just on a much, much grander scale. He assured her that it was nothing she couldn't handle and that he'd teach her everything she needed to know. Jazz had then caught her up on the happenings around base during her three day absence. Galloway was on a power-tripping rampage, apparently, which explained Prime's enthusiasm over the meeting they were to have. They'd talked about how far progress on the bunker had come and what still needed to be done. She and Jazz had thrown around some ideas on how to best decorate their new shared office space. Jazz, of course, had also wanted to show off how awesome the bass was on their new sound system. They'd listened to some new bands he'd discovered on the internet and basically just enjoyed one another's company. It was...pleasant.

Amy felt safe in their new space which was saying a lot as she'd rarely felt safe anywhere. It was cozy, like a little, protective bubble and she was loathe to leave it. It wasn't until the late afternoon that the real world was finally able to invade into what Amy was now referring to in her head as the Sanctuary. Jazz had to head back to the med bay for another round of squabbling with Ratchet and so Amy had volunteered to deliver some reports he'd been working on for Epps to the main hangar before she called it a night. They'd rode the elevator up together in companionable silence, parting ways once they'd reached ground level with a smile and a wave. The trip itself to the main hangar was relatively short and uneventful. When she entered, however, she found that she'd walked right into the middle of one of Galloway's rants.

"That was a forty-thousand dollar full-screen projector system, Captain!" Galloway was red in the face, yelling at Captain Lennox. "It was purchased specifically for intelligence briefings and now it's gone! Can you explain that?"

Lennox was obviously tired of the man's attitude and snapped back, "Who the hell spends forty-thousand dollars on a goddamn movie projector? Can you explain that?"

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Amy eased by the arguing pair and made a bee line for Epps who seemed to be watching the exchange with a hint of sadistic glee. She greeted the man, "Evening, Master Sergeant."

"OS2!" Epps grinned at the woman. "Long time, no see! How are things going?"

"Really good," she replied, trying to ignore the yelling in the background. "Thanks for asking." She passed the reports off to Epps. "I, uh, Jazz asked me to drop off these reports off."

"Thanks," Epps nodded and took the reports from her hands. "Tell him I appreciate him getting these back to me so fast."

Amy nodded, opened her mouth to assure the man she'd pass along his gratitude when she was suddenly drowned out by all the noise.

"These things cost money, Captain!" Galloway screeched. "Taxpayer money that I'm to ensure is spent responsibly!"

"Spending forty-thousand dollars on a projector is a responsible use of taxpayer money?" Lennox barked back, "Since when?"

To Epps, Doe whispered, "What's going on?"

"The pencil pusher here decided he needed a fancy new movie projector for his intelligence briefings." Epps laughed, "He spent forty grand of the budget on the whole setup. Now the damn thing has gone missing and he's losing his mind."

Doe shook her head, "Geez..."

"It's government property, Captain!" A vein bulged in Galloway's temple, "I demand you help me find it! Someone took it! It didn't just grow legs and walk away!"

"Maybe it did! Have you taken a look around lately? There are a lot of things walking around in here that probably shouldn't be!" Lennox spun on the man causing him to backpedal. "You aren't in a position to make idiotic demands! If you hadn't noticed, we're trying to fight a war here! I've got soldiers to command and strategies to devise. I couldn't give a damn less about your stupid projector!"

Galloway looked like he was about three seconds from throwing a full blown tantrum. "You can't speak to me that way, Captain Lennox!"

Lennox glared at the man, "I just did. Now, if you don't have any real problems, I'd like to get back to work."

Galloway's mouth opened and closed as he struggled for some sort of retort to the Captain's words. Instead, he turned and stomped off in the direction of the hangar's main doors, screaming for his assistant as he went.

"Good riddance," Lennox muttered as he strode back over toward Epps. He addressed the other man, "Can you believe this guy?"

Epps laughed, "Nothing that comes out of that man's mouth shocks me anymore, Will. I don't know how the Big Guy puts up with him on a daily basis. Honestly, I would have just stepped on him by now and been done with it."

"Yeah, well..." Lennox chuckled, "I think Ironhide has dibs if it ever comes down to that." He acknowledged Doe, returning her salute. "OS2, fancy seeing you here. How's everything going? Getting along well with Jazz?"

"Yes, Sir." Doe readily agreed. "Very well, Sir."

"Good," the man smiled. "Jazz is a really good guy. He's had nothing but praise for you. He says you're a keeper."

Though she was sure the Captain had meant nothing by it and was simply relaying the fact that Jazz found her to be satisfactory for her position, his phraseology had struck something of a chord within her. She wasn't a 'keeper'. She'd never been a 'keeper'. She managed to keep a pleasant smile plastered on her face. "He's great. I have no complaints."

"Glad to hear." Lennox asked, "Is there something you needed? I'm sorry if I'm holding you up."

"Oh," Amy shook her head. "No, Sir. Just dropping off some reports. Otherwise, I'm done for the day. I was on my way out."

"Well, then," the Captain grinned. "Don't let me stop you. Go on. Get out of here."

"Have a good night, Sir, Master Sergeant." Doe bid the two men a farewell and made her way out of the hangar the way she came.

Once outside, Amy paused. If she went right, it would take her back to the base shuttle stop. She could hop on the bus, go back to the barracks, and hole up in her room until reveille rolled around tomorrow morning. If she went left, it would take her deeper into the part of the base the Autobots frequented, where they lived...where Sideswipe had asked her to come find he and his brother once she was finished for the night. The strangeness of the whole situation still lingered in her mind, making the decision more difficult than she knew it should be. She wasn't sure what to do, what she wanted to do. A sharp snap of electricity in her chest, however, was doing its best to sway her decision but it seems it was unnecessary.

"Psst! Ames!"

Amy nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart pounded even as the buzz in her chest calmed once again. She turned to find a pair of glowing blue optics staring back at her from the deep evening shadows being cast between the buildings. "Sideswipe?"

The mech nodded, easing out of the shadows until just the outline of his frame was visible in the darkness. He knelt down and motioned for the woman to come closer. "Where's Jazz?

Confused, Amy answered, "He's with Ratchet."

"Did Galloway leave?"

"Yeah," Amy nodded.

"Captain Lennox?"

"He's in there talking to Epps." Suspicious, Amy asked, "Why? What's going on?"

Sides merely grinned at her and rose back to his full height. He called back over his shoulder, "The coast is clear, Sunny!"

Amy watched as the yellow mech stealthily emerged from the side entrance of an adjacent building, a large box cradled under one arm. Her eyes widened in realization.

"Squishie," Sunstreaker greeted the human femme as he sauntered over.

"Hey!" Amy pointed, "Is that the projector Galloway was in there going nuts over?!"

"Shh!" Sides shushed, "Keep your voice down, Ames."

"It could be," Sunny answered her question with a smirk.

Amy shook her head, "Why in the world do you have it?"

Sunstreaker shrugged, "We needed it more than he did."

"So," Sideswipe eyed the young woman, "Are you done for the night?"

"Well, yeah," Amy admitted, "But..."

"Great!" The mech elbowed his brother, "Let's get out of here, Sunny. C'mon, Ames, let's roll."

"What?" Amy looked up at the mech in confusion. "To where?"

"Uh," Sides look down upon the woman as if she was the one not making any sense. "To our place? You said we'd hang out together and there's no point in having the projector if we aren't going to use it."

"I agreed to hang out, yes." Amy shook her head, "Not commit grand larceny."

Sunstreaker snorted, "You worry too much, Squishie."

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed, "Its not a big deal. Besides, Galloway is a piston-headed son of a scrap heap anyway. Screw that guy."

Amy opened her mouth to argue but really couldn't refute the mech's statement. Everything she'd seen and heard since she'd arrived suggested that the man was a grade-A ass. Instead, she sighed, "If you say so..."

"We do." Sunstreaker vented in impatience. "And so does everyone else."

Doe watched in a mix of awe and amazement as the yellow twin transformed around the box he carried into the form of a Lamborghini. She fully expected to hear the sound of forty-thousand dollars worth of equipment being crushed and grinded in the cogs and gears of a giant robot. Instead, she gave a huff of surprise when the vehicle's passenger window rolled down to show the box, perfectly intact, nestled safely in the driver's seat.

The mech's voice drifted from the car's interior. "Hey Squishie, if you're over your crisis of conscience, can we go?"

"Come on, Ames," Sideswipe pouted. "Please? It'll be fun, we promise. You know you want to..."

Amy's first instinct was to decline but even the thought of turning down the invitation had her chest roiling in discomfort. Eventually, she relented. "Yeah...okay."

 **End of Chapter 16**


	17. Chapter 17

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 17**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! This is the second part to the last chapter that I promised you. I could have written on forever but I don't want to bore you to death. Many thanks to all of you who have added this story to your alerts and favorites. Many, many thanks to those who took time out to post a review: Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, TheGreenWallFlower, sakurawriter, HenriettaDarlington, velociraptor4659, Maria B, 'Guests' (whoever you are...), KayleeChiara, Edges05. You guys are so encouraging! I can't thank you enough!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Come on in, Ames," Sideswipe ushered the woman in with a dramatic sweep of his arm. He flashed a cheeky grin in her direction, "Make yourself at home. Our house is your house."

"Thanks," she murmured uncertainly as she stepped inside.

Amy hadn't been sure what she expected the bedroom -berth room, she reminded herself- of a couple enormous robots to look like. Her eyes raked over the place as she ventured cautiously further into the room. It wasn't anything fancy, pretty much what you'd expect a partitioned off military warehouse to look like- four thick, galvanized steel walls that had been painted an off-white, folding industrial doors, gray reinforced concrete floor, and metal halide aluminum lighting fixtures hanging overhead. It was, to her at least, a pretty large space they'd been allotted. Then again, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, themselves, would take up a substantial portion of it. Also taking up room were two large, bed-like structures where she assumed the two...Slept? Rested? Defragged? She wasn't sure what they did, actually. Everything was neat, clean, and looked organized, though. There was some shelving bolted into one wall that contained various items and accoutrements. Among them she spied several containers of car polish, a variety of waxes, buffing pads and microfiber cloths which actually made her smile a bit.

"Mother fragging son of a glitch." Sunstreaker quickly entered the room, shut the door and bolted it, catching the attention of the room's other two occupants. The mech stood rigidly in place, box still clasped under one arm, seeming to listen for something on the other side.

Concern etched on his face plates, Sides inquired, "What happened, Sunny?"

The yellow twin vented, "Prowl's out there lurking around again."

Sides' faceplates scrunched up, "What for?"

Sunny, annoyed, turned to his twin, "How the frag should I know? You want me to go out there and ask?"

Sideswipe merely chuckled. "Do you think he saw you?"

Sunstreaker shook his head. "I don't think so. I guess we'll know in a minute. I can hear him coming this way."

The entire room seemed to freeze, Amy not even daring to breathe, as the sound of the SIC's carefully measured footsteps grew louder the closer they came toward the twins' room. There was a moment of tense apprehension as the mech's foot falls paused directly outside the door, lingering for a long, agonizing moment, before carrying on down the corridor. It wasn't until they'd faded completely out of earshot that the three gave a collective sigh of relief.

"Nosy slagger," Sunny commented as he moved away from the door to deposit the box on his berth. He ripped into the packaging, lifting out the contents and studying them with a critical optic before asking, "How much did that burnout say he paid for all this?"

"Uh," Amy stuttered, "Forty-Forty thousand."

Sunstreaker snorted as he continued to unpack. "He got ripped off. Serves him right. Could have got all this way cheaper off of Amazon."

"Ames..." Sideswipe had made himself busy rearranging some of the furniture on the other side of the room. He'd turned his berth sideways and pushed it all the way up against the wall, and scooted a large, make-shift table that housed several data pads and other odds and ends to the far corner leaving a large space of open wall in front. "You like to watch movies, right?"

"Yeah," Amy nodded. "I like movies. Do, uh, do you guys?"

"Sides," Sunstreaker interrupted. "Grab this screen, will you? The mounting brackets are already attached."

"Got it," Sideswipe took the screen from his brother and set about bolting it to the wall space he'd just cleared. He glanced over his shoulder at Amy as he worked. "Yeah, we like movies. We watch them all the time." He tapped his head. "We can stream them right off the Internet."

"Really?" Amy wasn't entirely sure what to say to someone who just said they could download movies into their brain. She settled for, "That's...uh...pretty awesome." She shook her head and wondered, not for the first time, why she had to be so socially awkward. She scrambled for something else to say. Finally coming up with, "So, do you have a favorite?"

"Hmm..." Sides paused in his task, seeming to study the question for a moment before answering. "I think it's a toss up between 'Enter the Dragon' and 'Death Wish'."

"Cool," Amy smiled, "An old-school action movie type of guy. I can see that."

"Hey," Sideswipe grinned at her. "I bet you can't guess Sunny's favorite."

"Uh," Amy glanced over at the yellow mech who paused in his assembly of the projector to observe her with a raised brow. She shook her head, "I honestly have no idea."

"Oh, come on, Ames," Sideswipe encouraged. "Give it a guess. We'll give you three tries."

"Um..." Amy sucked in a lungful of air and puffed it back out. She took a long, careful look at Sunstreaker and took the plunge. "...'Maximum Overdrive'? ...No? ...Uh...How about...'Christine'? ...Is it 'Terminator'?"

Sideswipe was practically doubled over in laughter and, for a moment, Amy was afraid that she may have offended the notoriously volatile mech. There was a long, tense moment in which Sunstreaker did nothing but stare at her with a carefully blank expression. So, she felt like her heart was going to stop when one side of his mouth finally hitched up into a lopsided grin.

"Squishie's got jokes." Sunstreaker chuckled as he gathered the equipment he'd been working on to begin installing it. He smirked at the woman, "'La Belle Noiseuse'."

"Oh..." Amy's brows furrowed in thought. She certainly would have never guessed that in a million years. "I think I've maybe heard of that one. It's about an artist, right?"

Sunstreaker merely hummed noncommittally and kept on working.

"What about you? Sides asked, "You got a favorite?"

"Not really, I mean, I don't get a chance to watch movies all that often. I'm always busy working." Amy chewed her lip. "And before I joined the navy, the last place I lived, I wasn't allowed to watch any television or movies. Or listen to music. Or read anything that they didn't get from their church..."

Sunstreaker looked down on her, slightly perplexed. "The Pit you live at, Squishie? A fragging prison?"

She shrugged, "But, to answer Sideswipe's question, I guess if I had to choose a favorite it would probably be 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'."

"Nice. A classic comedy," Sideswipe nodded approvingly. "Gotta love John Cleese."

"Done," Sunstreaker proudly announced.

Amy peered up at the projector which was now secured into the ceiling. "I still can't believe you guys stole that."

"We didn't steal it," Sides corrected. "We borrowed it. We'll give it back...eventually. Maybe."

Sunstreaker snorted, "But probably not."

Amy sighed and shook her head, not seeing any point in arguing with the pair. "So..." She looked around the room. "What now?"

"Now," Sideswipe winked at her. "We get to enjoy the fruits of our labor."

"Don't just stand there," Sunstreaker rumbled, "Get up here, femme."

Amy squealed as she was suddenly plucked from the ground by a pair of yellow and gun metal gray hands. She was lifted so suddenly that it made her stomach flip and her head spin. She flailed, trying to find something to grab onto for some semblance of stability. She didn't even have time to protest the move, however, before she was just as suddenly deposited atop Sideswipe's berth. She looked up, still dizzy, to find Sunstreaker gazing down at her, obviously amused.

"Sorry, Squishie." Sunstreaker settled down on the berth beside her with his back against the wall. "Sides, hit the lights. You're closer."

Amy blinked as the room was suddenly plunged into near total darkness. The only illumination the soft, blue glow of the mechs' optics which cast their faces in a strange, otherworldly blush. It wasn't but a moment later that the projector's lens blazed to life and the illusion was lost as Sunstreaker went to work adjusting the focus and resolution.

"I've checked into this whole movie thing," Sideswipe declared as sank down on Amy's other side. "It's my understanding that popcorn is an important part of the experience. So..." The mech pressed a small container into the woman's hands. "We got you this."

"Wow," Amy turned the container over in her hands, her mouth twitching in amusement. "It's a jar of popcorn kernels, uh, thank you."

Uncertain, Sideswipe asked, "That's okay, right?"

"Yeah," Amy quickly assured. "It's just, um," She smiled up at him, "We usually pop them before we eat them."

"I told you it had to be cooked." Sunstreaker eyed the jar with an amused grin, "That slag looks like gravel...probably bust out all her teeth trying to chew."

"It's fine, really." Amy patted Sideswipe on the arm in assurance. "I love popcorn. I'll just...I'll hold on to this for next time. If I really need a snack, I still have a granola bar in my pocket from this morning."

The mech still looked unsure and slightly disappointed, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Amy sat the popcorn off to the side and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate the thought. So," she clapped her hands together, looking back and forth between the brothers. "What are we watching?"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"How much longer do I have to wear this thing, doc?"

"Until I say so," Ratchet didn't even look up from where he sat hunched over some kind of large, microscope-like contraption. "What does the readout say?"

Jazz reclined back onto the medical berth, twisting his head to see the monitor that loomed over him. "It says 76.3 percent stability ratio."

"You're not walking out of here with anything less than 95 percent." Ratchet shot the mech an amused glance, "You know the drill."

The silver mech sighed. He tried to fold his hands over his chest plates but found them impeded by the mess of thick wires and cables that fed into his spark chamber. He settled for tucking them behind his head. There was nothing worse, at least in his mind, than be stuck in the med bay. Not that he didn't enjoy Ratchet's company. The mech had a reputation for being ornery but he also had a dry sense of humor that Jazz could appreciate. It didn't make it any easier for him, though. Jazz was a mech who'd always loved to be moving. He'd loved life and he'd loved living. In his current state, however, just existing seemed to take a monumental effort. He felt useless most of the time. He vented forlornly.

"Jazz," Ratchet turned in his seat to face the mech. "I know this is difficult for you but with injuries like these...it does take time to heal. Believe it or not, you are getting better. In fact," the CMO rose and strode over to where Jazz lay to check the monitors himself. "You've shown significant improvement lately since you've gone back to work."

"I told ya, doc." Jazz grinned, "I was dyin' of boredom in here. I needed to get out and explore the world."

Ratchet chuckled as he adjusted some cables, "Your humor has certainly made a come back which is most welcome. Things are going well, I take it? You and Miss Doe seem to be getting on splendidly."

"Yeah," Jazz agreed with an easy smile. "She's a good kid. Capable, smart...I'm confident that she's gonna do just fine. She's just..." his smile faltered slightly. "I don't know."

"She's just what?" Ratchet raised a concerned brow. "Is she still unwell?"

"Nah," Jazz shook his head. "Nothing like that, doc. She seemed to be feelin' a lot better today. It's just that..." He paused for a long moment. Then, "Hey, Ratch...you ever been to Stanix City?"

Ratchet nodded, "Many, many vorns ago. I did a short rotation at Fort Scyk prior to the war."

"You're lucky," the silver mech murmured. "I was sent there as part of a security detail after the Decepticons detonated an EMP bomb to bring down the communications grid right before the war really went full swing. We were supposed to provide protection for repair crews but...there wasn't really anything left worth saving. Almost the entire city was leveled. You want to know the worst part?"

Ratchet asked quietly, "What's that?"

"There weren't many survivors. Those that did make it were mostly young. Sparklings..." Jazz vented shakily, "Some barely even a decivorn old...nowhere near old enough to make it on their own."

Ratchet placed a comforting hand on the mechs shoulder. "Jazz..."

The mech shook his head, "They were terrified and alone. Everything they'd ever known was gone. Their creators, their families..." Jazz paused, taking a moment to gather himself. "I'd go out there, ya know? I'd take my rations out there. It wasn't much but...I thought if I could just help one...We were under orders, though. The Decepticons launched an assault Altihex not long after...they wanted control of the energon refineries." He shook his head. "Leaving those sparklings behind was one of the hardest things I think I've ever had to do."

Ratchet vented in sympathy, "I'm sorry, Jazz."

"She reminds me of them," he finally spoke. "Something about her...something in her eyes. She's been alone out there, Ratchet. I can tell."

"Well," Ratchet cleared his vocal processor. "She certainly isn't now."

"No, she most definitely isn't," Jazz smiled sadly. "Sorry to get all heavy on you, doc."

"I understand." Ratchet patted Jazz's shoulder. "You don't have to explain yourself to me." The mech retreated back to his desk and sank back down into his seat. "For what it's worth, I believe everything happens for a reason. Even ending up on this planet. Perhaps you were meant to find one another."

"Maybe," Jazz mused. He watched as the medic returned to his studies. "Hey, what are ya workin' on over there, doc?"

"Oh," Ratchet chuckled. "These are the samples I took from Miss Doe earlier today. I must say, human DNA is quite fascinating. Such amazing genetic diversity. Do you think she'd mind terribly if I catalogued her genome for scientific study?"

"Hard to say," Jazz shrugged. "Ya gonna do anything weird with it?"

Ratchet scoffed, "Oh, please..."

The silver mech grinned, "I'll ask her tomorrow."

"Many thanks," the mech went to turn back to his studies but paused. "You know, it was quite strange."

"What's that?" Jazz asked.

"When I entered her samples into Teletraan's microfluidic analysis system it initially read her biosignature as Cybertronian." Ratchet vented, "It was picking up some odd traces of residual energy fluctuations in its scans."

Jazz partially sat up, concerned. "What does that mean?"

"Apparently, nothing." The CMO vented. "I ran the samples through again without any issues. Probably a systems error. The damn thing's been under the ice for several vorns. Regardless, I brought the samples back here to take a look at myself. She's very obviously a healthy, human female."

"Good ta know," Jazz leaned back into the berth.

Ratchet hummed and turned back to his microscope. "What does the readout say now?"

"Uh...76.7 percent."

The medic smirked in amusement. "May as well get comfortable, Jazz. You're going to be here for a while."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Sunny?" Sideswipe drew air deep into his intakes, releasing it slowly, as he stretched lazily and looked over at his twin. The other mech's optics were dim and half-shuttered. It was late. Or early, depending on your point of view. He continued softly, "What did you think about tonight? I thought it went pretty well considering this is all brand new territory for us."

Sunstreaker answered, his voice a low rumble, "I guess..." He vented tiredly, "I guess the Squishie isn't as annoying as I thought she'd be." He shook his head, "I still don't know where you think this is going, Sides. One night doesn't change the fact that she's a human and we're not. She doesn't know half of what's going on and even if she did and was interested I can't see this working out for the better."

"It goes where it goes." Sides shrugged, "I don't have all the answers, but you know I wouldn't have dragged us into this if I didn't think there was something to it. We'll just do the best we can, and figure out the logistics as we go."

"You think that'll be enough?" Sunstreaker leveled his brother with a serious gaze, "What if it isn't? What if this all goes to the Pit? What then?"

"Then...we'll manage," Sides assured. "The two of us. Just like we always have. But," the mech added, "If I'm right..."

Sunny snorted, "I still think this is insane."

"Duly noted," The silver mech grinned. "You have to admit, though, this felt really good."

"It was...different," Sunstreaker admitted quietly. "I'll give you that."

"I think Ames enjoyed herself, too."

"Yeah?" Sunstreaker actually chuckled, his eyes drifting to the berth between where he and his brother still sat. "You think so?"

"Maybe a little too much," the mech admitted with an amused snort, his line of vision following his twin's. "That is slagging adorable."

Sunny grimaced, "Easy for you to say. She isn't drooling all over your armor."

Amy had made it through showings of 'Ghost in the Shell' and 'The Naked Gun'. It was...fun. They'd talked about the movies and Amy had explained some of the references and jokes they both didn't quite get. About halfway through a screening of 'Gremlins', however, the woman had begun to yawn and her eyes began to droop. It wasn't long after that her eyes and drifted shut and her breathing had slowed and deepened. She'd slumped over, her head resting against her knees, eventually slipping down to rest against the closest surface which, at the time, had been Sunstreaker's forearm. In her sleep, she'd practically curled herself around his wrist.

Sunstreaker shook his head and tried to move his arm only to have the woman tighten her grip, "She's like a fragging electro leach."

Sideswipe scoffed and slipped off the berth. He stretched once again, popping the struts in his back, and sighed in contentment. He shot his brother a teasing glance. "Oh, stop pretending like you don't like it."

Ignoring his twin, Sunstreaker asked, "Think we should wake her?"

"Nah," Sides waved off the suggestion. "She's out of it for the night. Let's just let her sleep." He sighed, "She always seems tired. I get the impression she doesn't usually rest well."

Sunstreaker grunted his assent.

"Tell you what," Sideswipe reached to carefully brush some of the hair that had come loose from the knot Amy kept it in out of her face. "Take my berth tonight. She looks comfortable. I'll crash in your's."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker agreed. "Alright."

Sides moved quietly to the other side of the room to rummage through the shelves. After a moment he turned and tossed something to his brother. "Sunny, catch."

Sunstreaker used his free arm to snap the tossed item out of the air, unfurling it to find a blanket. He eyed his brother curiously but received only a shrug in return. With a shake of his head, he tucked the blanket around the slumbering woman before settling himself in the berth as well.

"Like I said," Sideswipe teased, "Slagging adorable."

"Shut your face," Sunny grumbled as he tried to get comfortable without disturbing the human. "As far as your concerned, this never happened."

"Whatever you say, bro." Sideswipe chuckled as he climbed into his brother's berth and settled himself. "Goodnight, Sunny."

After a moment, Sunstreaker mumbled, "Night, bit brain."

 **End of Chapter 17**


	18. Chapter 18

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 18**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! How are you all today? Fantastic, I hope. I'm posting so I'm alive and well. Thanks so much to those who've taken the time to read and add this story to your follows and faves. I'm thrilled to have you along for the ride. Special thanks to those who've taken a moment to review: Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, The Whispering Sage, KayleeChiara, Bearloveforever, Maria B, rybkakoi, LaurenA007, Guest (it's a mystery...), Knightnerd, iGleep, sakurawriter, Edges05, adelphe24, MysticFire101, Jinx's Remix, jojoniles, Sirenix Prime, Shelbaky. You're the best and I appreciate each and every one of you!**

 **Warning for this chapter: Starscream being freaking creepy and more than a little necrophile-ish. Nothing graphic but EWW! You'll understand when you get there. We'll be seeing more of the Decepticons in the near future. I promise.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey, Squishie..." Sunstreaker poked the blanket-covered lump. "It's time to wake up."

The woman shifted slightly, mumbling incoherently. All the mech was able to catch was something about, "Five more minutes..."

"No can do, femme." Sunny snickered and poked her again, "We already let you sleep in later than you usually do. It's almost 5:30. Any longer and you'll be late for duty."

Amy's eyes blinked open tiredly and at first her sleep addled brain had a bit of trouble processing what was happening and where she was. Her first realization was that she wasn't in her bed. The place where she currently lay was much, much larger. It was also very firm, only a slight padding beneath her. A large, fluffy pillow of some sort had been wedged behind her head and instead of the standard issue, scratchy wool blanket she had on her bed, she was covered with something thick and soft and plush. She was warm and cozy and comfortable. She'd had the most gloriously sound sleep she'd had since being transferred to Diego Garcia. There'd been no dark abyss or disembodied voices haunting her dreams and she wanted nothing more than to curl back up in her comfy, little nest and sleep for another hour or two.

Another gentle poke to her side, however, insisted she rise. Groggily, she pushed the blanket off her face rolled over onto her back. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before taking a look around the unfamiliar space eventually settling upon a broad, yellow chest. Confused at first, her eyes traveled upward, widening in realization, when they landed on the smirking face of the yellow twin. The mech was leaning against the wall next to the berth watching her growing bewilderment and dawning realization with great amusement.

"Good morning," Sunstreaker greeted in a smooth voice.

Amy sat bolt upright, her heart pounding. She fumbled for her watch, gaping at the time, and looked up at the mech in wide eyed embarrassment. "Have-have I been here all night?"

"Yep," the mech confirmed with a bland look. He pushed off the wall, reaching for a cube of strange, almost-glowing, pink liquid on the nearby table, and took a long drink. "Drooling and snoring away. I thought Ironhide was loud when he recharged," Sunny shuddered, "I'm surprised you didn't wake yourself up."

"Oh, my God." Amy kicked the blanket the rest of the way off and struggled to her feet. She felt her face blaze hot in embarrassment. She scrambled around trying to right her horribly wrinkled uniform and find her missing cover. "I-I'm so, so sorry...I didn't mean...I'll just...I'll get my stuff and get out of your way."

"Woah, woah, woah," Sunstreaker sat down his now half-empty cube of energon and crossed back over to the berth. "Pump your brakes, Squishie. I was only messing with you. You don't snore. Drooling," he grimaced, "that's another story entirely."

"My hat, " Amy carried on, shaking out the blanket, and ignoring the mech. "I can't find my hat."

"This hat?" Sunstreaker caught the woman's attention as he pulled her uniform cover out of subspace, pinching the brim between two of his fingers. When she reached for it, her jerked it out of her reach. "Uh-uh, Squishie." He pointed a finger at her. "Sit down and stop acting like a wing nut. Everything is fine. You're fine."

Amy opened her mouth to argue.

"No." Sunny cut her off before she could say anything. His face hardened. "Sit. Down."

Amy's mouth snapped shut and she sank back down onto her knees.

"Now," Sunstreaker drew air deep into his intakes and released it slowly, leaning in close to the woman he asked in a more gentle tone, "Mind telling me what your malfunction is or do you glitch out like this every morning?"

"N-nothing," Amy shook her head in denial. The worst thing, in her mind, was to stay somewhere she wasn't wanted. She'd been there and done that. In fact, her entire life had been that exact scenario and she knew the repercussions. "I-I just...I didn't mean to fall asleep. I don't want to be in the way or impose..."

"Impose?" Sunstreaker snorted. "Believe me, Squishie, if you weren't wanted here, I wouldn't have thought twice about picking you up and tossing your tiny aft out myself. Recharging, or no. Understand?"

"But-"

"Stop," the mech cut off whatever she was about to say. "It's a simple yes or no question."

Amy nodded, "Y-yes. I understand"

"Good. Its way too early for that slag. I haven't even finished my ration yet." Sunstreaker extended his hand, "Here's your hat."

"Thank you," Amy hugged the cover to her chest. "I'm sorry."

"Let's try this again," Sunny stood back up to his full height and eyed the femme with a raised brow. "Good morning."

"Good," Amy swallowed, her mouth dry. "Good morning."

"That's better." Sunstreaker seemed as though he was going to say more but was interrupted by the door to the room bursting open.

"Hey, Sunny." Sideswipe hustled his way in, shutting the door behind himself. "Is she up yet?

"Yeah," the mech answered as he regarded the human carefully. "She's definitely awake.

"Ames!" With bright optics, the silver twin greeted the woman. "Hope you don't mind, you dozed off on us last night and looked so peaceful that we didn't have the spark to wake you. Have a good sleep?"

"Uh," Amy pondered the question for a moment and decided, yes, she did have a good sleep. Now that her mind was eased somewhat that she hadn't been a burden, she felt more rested than she had in quite some time. She nodded, "Yeah, I did. Thanks."

"Glad to hear it," Sides grinned. "So did we. Really good. Oh, uh, we have something for you." The mech searched his subspace compartments, his face lighting up when he found what he was looking for. He handed Amy a bag which she cautiously accepted. He explained, "I went to the chow hall this morning and got you some breakfast so you could sleep in a little later. We thought you could use the extra rest."

Amy looked back and forth between the mechs. "You...you didn't have to do that."

"We wanted to," Sideswipe assured. "I asked one of the marines I know to grab some stuff that could be eaten on the go. I hope it's alright. I've heard it's the most important meal of the day."

Curious, Amy opened up the bag to examine its contents. She pulled out a bottle of orange juice, a banana, and a silver foil packet. She nodded and shot the mech a smile, "This is great. Thank you."

Sunstreaker retrieved his cube of energon and pressed another full one into his brother's hands as he examined the foil packet, rumbling in amusement. "Pop-tarts? Really?"

"Ah, frag me." Sideswipe vented in exasperation. He gave the woman a desperate look. "Please tell me they don't have to be popped."

Amy actually laughed, remembering the jar of popcorn from the previous evening. "No," she shook her head. "No popping required. They can be warmed up in a toaster if you want but I actually prefer them cold."

Relief washed over the mech, "Thank, Primus."

Sunstreaker shook his head and took another sip from his cube. "Human food is complicated. It takes too much time and preparation."

For the first time, Amy really noticed the strangely glowing liquid the mechs were ingesting. She peeled her banana, watching in fascination as the yellow twin seemed to drink down some of it down, his brother shortly following the action with his own cube of the stuff. She chewed a piece of her fruit slowly, swallowing before asking, "What is that stuff?"

"Energon," Sunny replied with a smirk. "Nice and simple. Just break the seal on the cube and you're good to go."

Amy looked back and forth between the mechs as she took a sip of her orange juice. "What's energon?"

"It's kind of like food, I guess. Maybe." Sideswipe clarified, "They mined it out of the ground back home. It was a primary energy source for just about everything. Ratchet found a way to synthesize a version of it that our systems can process from your planet's fossil fuels." Sideswipe shrugged. "It's not the greatest but beggars can't be choosers, right? It's better than starving to death."

Sunstreaker had finished his, placing the empty cube down on the edge of the berth as the three of them conversed. Amy leaned forward and gave it a sniff. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "It smells like JP-5*."

Sides chuckled, "I guess it's an acquired taste."

"Guess so," Amy agreed as she ripped into her pop tarts. She pulled out a pastry and waved it, "I'll stick with these."

"Probably a wise decision," Sideswipe agreed.

"What's Jazz have you doing today, Squishie?"

"Oh, uh," Amy directed her attention toward Sunstreaker as he sat down on the berth next to her. She blushed, still embarrassed from her earlier outburst. "He said he was going to give me a crash course in declination buoying." Her face twisted in confusion. "I have no idea what that is."

"It's boring, it what it is," Sides chuckled as he seated himself as well, still working on his cube.

"It's simple," Sunstreaker assured as he explained, "It's basically just calculating coordinates to locate things floating around out there in space and then marking them on a map as reference points. We use it to help track Decepticon movement. Teletraan does most of the work. You'll catch on quick. And," he added with a smirk, "It is really boring."

"Great," Amy sniggered in amusement. "What about you guys?"

"Security detail," Sunstreaker vented unhappily.

"You don't sound very enthused about it." Amy curiously asked, "What all does that entail?"

"Basically just patrolling the island," Sideswipe provided. "Keeping an optic out for anything that shouldn't be there."

"Oh," Amy nodded. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Some of its off-road," Sideswipe explained. "Sand, dirt paths, gravel, things like that. It can be really dusty, or muddy if it's been raining. Sunny doesn't like that."

Sunstreaker shot his brother a withering look over the top of Amy's head.

Sides laughed, ignoring the heated glare. "He likes to be clean and pretty."

"I can't say I blame him," Amy smiled softly in understanding. "I don't like to be dirty either. Speaking of which," she finished her banana and gingerly rose to her feet and gave herself a thorough once over. She frowned at the state of her slept-in uniform. She smoothed it as best she could then set about trying to fix her hair without the aid of either a mirror or a brush. She gave up after a moment, choosing to smash her cover down over her unruly blond locks instead. She needed to at least wash her face, a shower would have been preferable, and brush her teeth. She glanced at her watch and decided those things probably weren't going to happen this morning.

"Ugh," she stated solemnly, "I feel gross."

"You look fine," Sideswipe assured with a smile. "Doesn't she Sunny?"

Sunstreaker merely hummed in agreement and, for a brief moment, the two brothers held each other's gaze.

After a beat, Sideswipe nodded and looked down at the woman. "Ames, look, we know we you've got to get to work soon, so do we, but...we just wanted to let you know that we had a really great time with you last night. Best night we've had in a really long time, honest. It's been a while since we've had any company or conversation that didn't somehow revolve around fighting this slagging war."

Sunstreaker chimed in, "You're alright, Squishie, even if you do drool like you have a leaky gasket when you recharge."

"We hope you enjoyed yourself, too." Sides stated hopefully.

"Well, yeah." Amy blushed but nodded in agreement. "It was nice. I had a good time. It was really fun."

"Good," Sideswipe grinned, "We're glad and, uh, if you're alright with it...Sunny and I wanted to know what you thought about us maybe making this a thing?"

Amy looked between the mechs in confusion, "A thing?"

"Yeah," Sideswipe nodded. "You, know, a regular thing. Like...a standing engagement in the evenings after work. Duty permitting, of course," he quickly added. "It doesn't have to be just movies. This island is pretty small but I'm sure we could find other things that we could do together that would be just as fun."

"I don't know," Amy hesitated. It was tempting. It was a strange situation, yes, and felt oddly domestic for some reason. She really couldn't explain it. What she did know, however, was that she had woke up well-rested and she didn't feel like she had a hive of bees living in her chest. She felt better, as the twins had said she would. That, however, seemed like selfish reasoning to her and she hated feeling like some kind of charity case. "I'm happy to hang out once in a while but I'm sure you guys have more important things to do, things you want to do, once you're through for the day. I don't want to be underfoot and in your way all the time."

"Not this slag again," Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "We've been through this already. We're the ones asking, Squishie. If we didn't want you around, we wouldn't have offered."

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed. "We enjoy your company. Way better than sitting around in the hangar listening to Lennox's boys talk shop or hanging out in the rec area watching Ironhide calibrate his cannons for the billionth time. Besides," the mech grinned, "If we're gonna be friends this would be a great opportunity to get to know each other better, don't you think? I mean, what else do you have to do?"

Amy swallowed and shook her head. The short answer was that she had nothing. No family, no friends on the base other than the aliens she'd been sent there to assist, and no pressing appointments that would prevent her from saying yes to their simple request. She nibbled her lip, "If you really want to..."

"Trust me," Sides assured. "We want to."

"Primus, femme," Sunstreaker groused as he stood and stalked over to the door. "We're going to sit around here and rust waiting on you to make up your mind. Just say alright already before we're all late to our duty stations."

"Yeah...alright," Amy finally agreed after another moment of hesitation.. "That...sounds like fun."

"Great," Sideswipe smiled. "We have that security detail today and a supply offload tonight so we won't be finished till really late but the rest of the week we're free and clear after 6 PM. So, how about starting tomorrow we meet up outside the MWR Office about six thirty-ish? Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah," Amy nodded. "I've seen it. I know where that is. I can do that."

"It's a date then," Sideswipe winked at the woman and shot his brother a knowing glance. "Let's go ahead and sneak you out of here, then . We don't want Jazz getting all glitchy because you were late. We're still on his scrap list as it is."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Starscream cursed as he worked, his optics blazing red in the deep shadows of the abandoned factory, as he dragged his grisly cargo towards the industrial smelter. So much work, so many resources...wasted. He didn't understand why Megatron wasted his time attempting to build a new army. They had both the time and opportunity to decimate the Autobot ranks now. Prime and his compatriots were weak, leaning on the human fleshlings for support. Their numbers dwindled, only a handful of their troops making it to Earth. If they acted now, they could end this war once and for all, crown themselves the victors and rule this dustball of a planet as they were destined. Instead, Megatron chased foolish projects that had already been proven to fail even under the best of conditions.

He dropped his load, cursing once again at the waste of it all. He glared down heatedly at the lifeless protoforms, the latest two to succumb to death. Not that they'd ever truly been alive. They were sparkless...soulless. Their once shiny, silver exolayer was a drab, sickly gray, their pliant frames now stiff and brittle. The time he'd spent nursing them inside the pods a complete misuse of his time and skill, not that Megatron gave a flying frag. The Decepticon warlord had no clue the kind of effort that went into an undertaking such as this. He didn't care for things like science or facts. He simply wanted bodies to fill is ranks.

Starscream hefted the first body, what would have been a formidable mech had it survived incubation long enough for the Seeker to find some way of sparking it. It's wide, stocky frame would have suited it well as a heavy gunner. He would have been a great asset to the Decepticon cause. Now, however, the only thing it was suited for was to be melted down in the smelter. He heaved the empty shell over the side, watching in morbid fascination as the the body was consumed by the fiery-hot, roiling, liquidized metal within.

How many living souls had he seen meet this same fate? Kicking and screaming, crying out for mercy as their bodies melted away under the intense heat. Their sparks were always the last to go, burning defiantly even as the delicate chamber that housed them fell away. Eventually, the extreme heat would prove too much. It was always fascinating to watch as the spark itself virtually exploded under such drastic circumstances, seeming to shatter outward into thousands of tiny, glowing embers which would slowly burn out until there was nothing left at all. It was as if they had never been.

This task lacked the same...climactic satisfaction.

He pulled his optics away from the scene, intent on finishing what he started and moving on to something new. He paused though as he took in the crumpled form of the second shell. A frown creased his faceplates. This truly was a shame. Of the twelve protoforms he'd been able to artificially gestate and accelerate the growth of, only eight had survived the process and developed properly. Of those eight, he'd been astonished when two of them had bifurcated themselves and took on femme traits. The Decepticon ranks spread thin throughout the known galaxy, he couldn't recall the last time he'd entertained company of the femme variety. To say the demise of the would-be femme was a disappointment would have been a gross understatement.

With a grunt of frustration, he lifted the smaller, slighter frame with ease. He took a moment to savor how it felt in his arms, cold and stiff though it was, absent of even a whisper of life. It's optics were dark and dead but it's finely formed faceplates were frozen in what looked like a pained and frightened scream despite the fact that it had been incapable of feeling such terror. It was nothing he hadn't seen on the face of a femme before. In fact, he found the horror etched upon its features to be quite arousing. A rough groan worked its way out of his vocalizer.

The Seeker took a cautious look around the deserted factory. Megatron still lurked around somewhere and it would do no good for him to be caught slacking in his duties. The repercussions should he be caught...best not to think about. Still, his optics wandered back to the shell. It had been so long...too long. He shifted, pressing his frame firmly against the smaller one, pinning it between himself and the smelter. The pressure was teasing and not nearly enough to satisfy the discomfort that was rapidly building behind his interface panel. He groaned in dissatisfaction, abruptly pulling away. His cooling system had kicked in but whether from his proximity to the smelter or his near-painful arousal, he couldn't say.

"Starscream!"

The sound of the Decepticon leader bellowing his name startled him and he fumbled, nearly dropping the lifeless protoform and tripping into the smelter himself. He recovered quickly, though, and only had a slight warble in his voice as he responded, "I'm back here, my Lord! Disposing of the garbage!"

"Barricade has returned," Megatron informed. "He's brought information that may assist us with our project!"

Starscream took one last, longing look at the would-be femme. He pulled it close once more, his glossa sliding out from between his lip plates. He licked a single trail up the side of its faceplates, leaving a wet, oily sheen behind before hefting the lifeless body up over the lip of the smelter and letting it go. He watched as it, too, was claimed by the by the heat and flaming, liquid metal.

Starscream sneered as he turned away, "I'm on my way, Sire!"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was tired. It had been a long day and she'd been looking forward to retreating back to her barracks for a nice, hot shower before crawling into bed. Now, though, she just felt restless. A glance at her alarm clock told her it was going on one in the morning. She knew she needed the rest but her brain didn't seem to want to cooperate. She had too many thoughts rolling around in there to rest. Some, probably too ridiculous to even be entertained but they were there.

Most bothersome, at least in the dark of her small, solitary space, was the strange feeling in her chest. She wouldn't say that she'd gotten used to the strange electrical buzzing, far from it, but the pang of longing she felt now was a very physical thing. Was it normal to miss the physical presence of someone as much as she missed having Sideswipe and Sunstreaker nearby after just one night of hanging out together? She could only assume it was all part of the strange spark-friendship thing they'd explained to her. Was this normal? If so, she wondered how Cybertronians managed to befriend anyone at all if you couldn't even sleep for want of the other person. Certainly she missed Jazz, as well, when he wasn't around...looking forward to seeing him every day but it wasn't anything like this.

She wondered what the pair were currently doing. She knew they were assisting with supplies that Galloway had finally released to the Autobots after holding them hostage for months. According to Jazz, it was a lot of stuff and was going to be an all night evolution. She hoped they didn't work too hard and that they were able to get some rest before the night was through. The worry she felt seemed out of place. If anyone was capable of looking after themselves, she figured it would be a pair of huge sentient robots. Therefore, it seemed crazy to her to be fretting over them.

She sighed wearily and rolled onto her side, curling up into a ball. She pulled her blanket up snug around her body seeking the comfort she'd felt that morning when she'd fallen asleep in the twins' quarters. It didn't come. Maybe, she tiredly mused, her restful night had had more to do with having company while she slept and less to do with the accommodations. She did feel oddly lonesome, which was also an entirely absurd thing to feel if she thought about it. She'd spent her entire life alone. She was used to it. Solitary had become her natural state of being. It was all she knew. To feel anything else was unsettling.

She flopped back over onto her back, rearranging the covers once again to no avail. She stretched, twisted, and turned but just couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. Giving up, she thought to force herself to sleep. She squeezed her eyes closed. Even in her awake state she could feel the black abyss of her eerie repetitive dream beckoning her, waiting for her to drift off so that it could claim her once again. It was a useless endeavor. She gave another weary sigh and opened her eyes. She focused once again on the ceiling tiles as her heart gave another pining squeeze. It was going to be a long night.

 **End of Chapter 18**

*JP-5 is a yellow kerosene-based jet fuel developed in 1952 for use in aircraft stationed aboard aircraft carriers...The More You Know :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 19**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! You gorgeous people, you! I hope this chapter finds you well. Things should start to pick up pretty quickly from here. I've already got this story all mapped out all the way to the end. I'm pretty excited about it and I really enjoy writing it down. I hope you guys are excited, too! I love the twins so much! This one isn't too exciting, more of a bridge than anything else. If you squint, you may be able to see the first obstacle they'll have to overcome as a 'unit' heading their way. As always, I want to take a moment to thank you guys who've added this story to your alerts and favorites. I'm happy to have you on this journey. Special, heartfelt thanks to my wonderful reviewers: TheSarcasticKnight, LaurenA007, Bearloveforever, sakurawriter, iGleep, adelphe24, KayleeChiara, Til' all are one, Guests (you know who you are), Maria B, MysticFire101, velociraptor4659, ElleGirl19, ischyros, Edges05. You guys are wonderful inspiration!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Petty Officer Doe sat impatiently in her chair. She shifted, twisted and turned in her seat but couldn't seem to get comfortable. Her foot tapped restlessly on the floor while her fingers drummed themselves on the top of her desk. Her eyes kept straying to the analogue clock on the wall. Now that she was sitting still with nothing to occupy her, time seemed to be crawling along so slowly that it made her want to pull her hair out and scream. She couldn't recall ever feeling so anxious in her entire life. The tugging feeling in her chest was almost driving her insane. It was almost worse than the buzzing had been. It felt as though someone had ran a length of string through the center of her chest from front to back and was pulling the damn thing slowly back and forth over and over again. It was maddening.

It took some effort but she managed to pull her eyes away from the staring contest she was having with the wall clock and survey the space around her if for no other reason than to try to kill some time. Honestly, she loved her office. It was the only place she'd ever been that had actually been created by someone with her in mind and so she cherished it. Sure, she'd had her own workstation on board the ship but it was right out in the middle of the Operations Room floor with everyone else. She'd certainly not had her own office...well, shared office, but with an office mate like Jazz sharing certainly wasn't a hardship in the least. He'd even had both of their names put on the door. The mech was probably the easiest person, human or no, to get along with that she'd ever met and she enjoyed his company immensely. It seemed to her that the feeling was mutual.

She wasn't sure how Jazz had managed to pull it off but some time between her arrival for her shift that morning and the time she went to lunch, the mech had had her office furniture delivered and set up for her. She'd been expecting a desk, most likely one of those beige-colored, steel Sandusky Lee double pedestal desks that seemed to grace the offices of most chiefs and lower ranked officers she'd ever reported to on her ship. She thought that perhaps she'd luck out and he'd find a small shelf or filing cabinet where she could keep her Blue Jackets Manual, the required MSDS and SOP binders, and training and maintenance logs. Instead, she'd come back to the office to grab her cover to head out for chow and had found furniture that looked like it belonged to the CEO of a Fortune 500 Company somewhere working in a Manhattan high rise.

The furniture was wooden, oak, she guessed. It was polished to a warm, glowing luster. The desk was placed to where it looked out over the office space, itself, where she could see everything from her elevated position in the loft. She'd been given a computer to complete her reports on as well as all the necessary peripherals. A low, bookcase ran along one wall, all her books, manuals, and logs already organized upon the shelving with plenty of room for more. She'd stood there for a moment, stunned, as she tried to soak it all in.

"So, whatcha think, D?"

Amy had turned to find the mech leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chassis. "It's...it's awesome!"

The mech chuckled, "Glad you like it. I was furniture shoppin' and saw this in the catalog and it had your name written all over it. I couldn't resist."

She shook her head, "I don't even know what to say. Thank you, Jazz."

"The look on your face is thanks enough. Anything I can do for ya, scraplet," the mech had generously stated, "You know I will."

Aside from being generous and having an impeccable taste in furniture, she'd also learned that Jazz was a very good teacher. She would have been a bald-faced liar if she said the thought of working with Teletraan hadn't had her all in a tizzy. The immense size of the machine was intimidating enough as it was but the fact that it was genuine alien technology from another planet set her head a spin. She'd been excited but also as nervous as all get out. Thankfully, Jazz had brought the same laid back and easy going demeanor to teaching her as he did to every other task he undertook. She was glad for his patience since, with a sleepless night under her belt, she wasn't as sharp as she normally was.

With the mech's encouragement and patient tutelage, though, she'd caught on very quickly. She actually wondered why she'd been so worried in the first place. Declination buoying was much like Sunstreaker had explained it to be and before too long, she'd gotten proficient enough at it that Jazz had turned her loose with only minimal supervision. By the time she'd run all the calculations she'd decided the twins had been right on another aspect of the job, as well. It did seem to become very monotonous after a while. She'd have to tell them she thought so when she saw them again. She was sure they'd get a kick out of her agreement that it was, indeed, quite boring.

Her eyes wandered back toward the clock. It was only five minutes since she'd last checked. She groaned in frustration, "Oh, come on already."

An amused chuckle sounded from the main floor below. "You're pretty eager to get out of here tonight, D. Gotta hot date night planned or something?"

"What?" Amy's eyes widened and she felt herself blush as she peered over the railing to find Jazz lounging at his own desk, feet kicked up, and gazing right back at her with a raised brow. She shook her head in denial, "N-no...n-nothing like that."

"Mmmhmm," Jazz grinned at her. "Sure you don't."

Amy felt as though her face was on fire. "I don't! I just...I'm tired. I didn't sleep very well last night. That's all."

"Deny it all ya want, scraplet," Jazz teased. "I know that look."

"What look?" If Amy hadn't felt flustered before, she certainly did now. "What are you talking about? I don't have a look."

"Sure ya do." The mech winked at her. "You've got the look of an enamored femme...some things are universal regardless of species. So..." the mech seemed to become serious, "Who's the lucky guy? Anybody I know?"

"There is no guy," Amy denied. "I'm not, I'm not...enamored. I don't have a date!"

"Is it that Cavanaugh guy in supply? He seems pretty decent." Jazz questioned, "Or is it that guy you used to hang out with all the time? What was his name? Monroe?"

"Oh, my God." Amy couldn't believe what was happening. More to the point, she couldn't believe that her plans to meet up with the twins after work had made her giddy enough that even Jazz had noticed. It wasn't a date, she told herself. It couldn't be a date. They were friends, the three of them. More so to drive the point home, she informed Jazz once again, "I don't have a date!"

"Come on, D, I need to know these things! I need details!" Jazz grinned at her, teasing, but there was an underlying current of seriousness in his words. "How else am I gonna know who's legs I have to break if they hurt ya?"

Amy laughed out loud, "Jazz..."

"Alright, alright..." the mech threw his hands up in surrender. "Be that way. Just remember, I do gather intelligence for a livin'...just saying."

Amy snorted, "Is that a threat?"

"That's a promise," the mech assured. He made a shooing motion with his hands, "Now go on and get outta here. You don't wanna make Romeo wait too long."

Amy blushed anew, "Jazz!"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"What the frag is taking so long?" Sunstreaker paced restlessly causing the humans near him to cautiously move away. "That slagger better have a damn good reason for making us wait this long."

Sideswipe approached his brother from the other side of the hangar and sat atop a large, wooden, cargo crate next to the pacing mech. He rolled his shoulders in discomfort and passed a soothing hand over his chest plates to try to quell the turbulence in his spark. He vented heavily, "It shouldn't be much longer. There was a discrepancy in the paperwork. Lennox says Galloway is making them go back through the shipping manifest item by item. Prowl's handling it but he wants everyone on deck in case we have to move anything else."

"Unbelievable," Sunstreaker snarled. "We should have been out of here three groons ago. I don't know how much longer I can stand this."

"I know. I feel your pain, bro. I thought the three of us being closer would help but...I,guess we can't carry her around with us 24/7." The mech sighed, "I'm dying over here, Sunny. What are we going to do?"

"You're asking me?" Sunny shook his head and dropped his mass down onto the crate next to his twin. "You're the one that got us into this slagging mess in the first place." He seemed to contemplate for a moment. "The only course I really see is to ride this thing on out. It isn't like we can turn it off. Maybe it's the newness of it. Maybe it'll get easier the more time we're together. If not," the yellow mech pressed a hand to his chest plates. "We're going to have to come up with a Plan B. We can't function like this forever."

Sideswipe frowned but nodded in agreement.

"Alright, listen up scrap heaps," Ironhide sauntered into the hangar, catching the attention of human and mech, alike. "Prowl says we're good so if you don't have anything else you need to do, you're free to go."

The humans that had been assisting the bots began to scatter almost immediately. Mirage had flowed suit, nodding a farewell to the Weapon Specialist as he went. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had eagerly made their way towards the hangar doors as well. They were nearly to freedom when Ironhide's voice stopped them.

"Not you two slaggers." The big mech smirked, "Sunshine and Smart Aft, we need to have a word."

Sunstreaker vented angrily. "What now?" He growled.

Sides asked, "About what, Hide? Can it wait? Sunny and I are kind of in a hurry."

Ironhide shrugged, "Not my problem. You should have thought of that beforehand."

"What the Pit are you talking about," Sunny demanded.

Ironhide rumbled, "I don't suppose either of you know what happen to Advisor Galloway's missing projection equipment that vanished from the briefing room, do you?"

"What?" Sideswipe looked offended at the veiled accusation. "How should we know, Hide? We're not even allowed in the briefing room."

"Has he checked his aft port?" Sunstreaker deadpanned, "It might be shoved up there along with his head."

Ironhide snorted, "Very funny."

"Seriously, Hide," Sideswipe argued. "Are you even sure the fragger had projection equipment? He seems the type to make slag up just to start trouble."

"I don't like the human either," Ironhide ruefully admitted, "But we're stuck with him for now. The more pissy he gets the harder he is to work with and Prime has enough to deal with as it is without some miss-clocked human bureaucrat jumping his frame every ten seconds complaining about you two."

"Hate to disappoint you," Sunny smirked, "But it wasn't us. Why don't you go ask Mirage? That trinket has an obsession with soap operas. He's probably on his way to his quarters to binge watch right now."

Ironhide looked between the mechs, "The Pit is a soap opera?"

Sideswipe grinned, "Television serial dramas."

"Sorry I asked." Ironhide groaned and shook his head. "Are you sure you two dim sparks had nothing to do with Galloway's equipment?"

"We're positive," Sideswipe insisted. "Go check our quarters if you want. We don't have it."

Ironhide eyed the pair suspiciously, "I may take you up on that."

Sides shrugged, "Help yourself."

Sunstreaker demanded. "Are we done here?"

Ironhide studied the mech intently for a moment before giving a nod. "For now. Don't let me catch you two doing something you shouldn't be."

"Don't worry, Hide." Sideswipe assured, "You won't. We'll keep an optic out for Galloway's equipment. Come on, Sunny."

Sunstreaker lingered, gazing challengingly at the larger mech for a moment before turning and stalking off after his brother.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Come on, Amy..." Doe chastised herself. "Get yourself together. It isn't like your going to see the President...you're meeting up with friends."

Truly, she blamed Jazz for her current flustered state. All his talk about going on a date had her head all twisted. Now here she stood, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around her body, staring into her locker, and cursing her scant collection of civilian clothing. She supposed she could just wear her uniform. She had a set that was freshly pressed but that seemed a bit too stuffy for just hanging out. She considered just throwing on her PT gear but that seemed like she just didn't care. With a huff, she finally pulled a pair of black slacks out of her locker that she'd honestly forgot that she had and, with a bit more effort, found a long-sleeved, red t-shirt that she couldn't even remember buying.

She groaned at their crumpled state and drug her iron out as well. If the military had done anything for her, it had certainly made her proficient at getting wrinkles out of clothes. She set about her task, humming to herself, and trying to ignore the pulling sensation in her chest. It seemed the closer it got to time for her to meet up with the twins, the worse the feeling became. It didn't take her long to have the clothes pressed to her liking and she quickly dressed, pulling the sleeves of the t-shirt down over the scarring on her arms. She found a pair of black flats and shoved her feet into them before putting on her belt and cinching it around her waist.

She studied herself in the small mirror attached to the inside door of her locker and frowned at her reflection. She never really paid too much attention to her appearance so long as she was squared away for duty. She liked to blend in, didn't like to stand out or draw any unnecessary attention. She wasn't sure why she was so worried now. She gathered her hair up in one hand, thinking to put it up in her usual bun. She stopped herself, opting for a pony tail instead. She stared at herself for a moment longer and sighed, ripping the band from her hair and allowing her mass of blond waves to tumble back down around her shoulders. She sighed wearily and slammed her locker shut.

"I give up," she muttered. "Not like they'd even care what I look like anyway," she mused with a self-deprecating laugh. "They're made out of metal. We probably all look like alien meat ogres to them anyway..."

She looked at her watch. She still had about thirty minutes before she was to meet the twins but it would take her about twenty to walk to the MWR office. She needed to get a move on. She quickly grabbed her military ID and key card and shoved them in her pocket. Taking one last look around her room to make sure everything was in order, she shut the door behind her and made her way to the stairs. She took them, two at a time, reaching the ground floor and bursting out of the stairwell into the lobby. She nodded a greeting to the Marine PFC on watch as she made her way to the front doors and pushed her way outside. She took a moment to breathe deeply the salty ocean air and admire the evening sky swathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple.

She moved easily down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, hanging a left in the direction of MWR. She walked briskly, the tugging sensation seeming to become more insistent as she moved. It was almost as if it knew where she was going and who she was going to meet. As she walked she passed others out enjoying the evening air. Off duty soldiers jogged by, throwing their hands up in greeting and so she did the same. She made the twenty minute walk in just fifteen, coming to a halt right in front of the MWR building and was more than a little disappointed to see that the twins were nowhere to be seen. She looked up and down the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pair but saw nothing. The first inklings of panic and rejection tried to worm their way into her thoughts but she quickly pushed those feelings down. A quick look at her watch told her she was still early and to give the mechs more time.

With a sigh, she stuffed her hands into her pockets. Her eyes wandered, lighting on a small pathway worn into the scrubby grass next to the building. Curious, she wandered in that direction, following the trail as it wound its way around behind the building. She followed it through a small stand of palm trees until it opened up and she found herself standing on a white, sandy beach. She hummed wistfully, closing her eyes and listening to the crash of the waves roar of the water as it rushed up onto the land over and over again. She could almost feel the pitch and roll of the sea beneath her feet and had a twinge of almost-homesickness. Not for the ship but for the peacefulness she found out on the water.

"Ames!"

The sound of the name Sideswipe had christened her with being called startled her out of her reverie. She took one last look at the ocean before turning back and following the trail back around the way she'd come. The tugging in her chest insisting that she hurry. She rounded the corner of the building to see both mechs looking rather perplexed. Sunstreaker stood in the middle of the street, no seeming to care that others trying to use the road had to swerve out around him. He had his hand planted firmly on his hips and was glaring daggers at passers by. Sideswipe had the foresight to move out of the flow of traffic and was on the sidewalk, hands laced together atop his head as his optics searched the area.

"Hey," Amy greeted shyly as she approached. "Sorry, I was early and wandered down to look at the water."

"Ames..." Sideswipe's optics brightened and a grin pulled at his lip plates as he moved toward her. He looked her up and down, humming in appreciation. "Wow...you look amazing."

"Oh, uh..." Amy blushed. "Th-thanks." Embarrassed, she looked away quickly, her gaze landing on Sunstreaker. The mech seemed to be regarding her strangely. She swallowed nervously.

"Squishie," Sunstreaker greeted with a nod, sounding slightly out of breath.

Sideswipe rumbled in amusement, "We missed you. The working party wasn't nearly as good company as you are."

Amy timidly admitted, "I, uh, I guess I missed you guys, too. I mean, Jazz is good company but...you guys were totally right. Declination buoying is really, really boring."

Sunstreaker smirked, "Told you so."

"So..." Sideswipe regarded the woman with a raised brow plate and a secretive smile. "Are you feeling up for some adventure this evening?"

"Adventure?" Amy blinked up at the mech, wide-eyed. There was something about the way he'd asked that made her mouth dry and her heart pound. "Like...like what?"

"Secret," he mischievously and mysteriously answered.

"Oh," Amy frowned. "Well, uh..."

"Come on, Squishie," Sunstreaker encouraged with a sly grin. "You're not scared, are you?"

Sideswipe looked to his brother and the two shared a brief, enigmatic moment which caused the yellow mech's grin to widen. He turned his attention back to Amy. "Just...trust us. Please?"

Amy hesitated for a beat. The tugging in her chest encouraging her to trust them even as her natural inclination to self-protect warned her against it. The strange connection they all seemed to share won out. Amy nodded, "Yeah, alright."

Sunstreaker praised, "Good choice, femme."

"Yeah," Sides agreed with an excited grin. "We promise you won't regret it."

 **End of Chapter 19**


	20. Chapter 20

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 20**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! How are you all doing today? Well, I hope. I'm back with another chapter for you. I can't believe we're 20 chapters in already! It's crazy! This chapter is the calm before the beginning of the storm, just to let you know. Also, I have a serious question for you all. That is, how romancey do you like your romance? Do you like fluff and cuddles? Are you a smut hound? Do you like a liberal sprinkling of both (my personal fave)? I'm asking because I'm trying to work ahead for you guys because I don't want to let this story stagnate and I don't want to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities, if ya know what I mean *wink, wink*. Anyway, thank you so much to those who've added this story to their follows and favorites. Special thanks to reviewers: The Whispering Sage, Guest, MysticFire101, velociraptor4659, KayleeChiara, AshelyOfChaos, Bearloveforever, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Maria B, adelphe24, Knightnerd, Stranno Roza, sakurawriter. I love reading your feedback and I'm always open to suggestions and ideas. Till next time!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Well," Sideswipe asked with a flourish, "What do you think?"

Amy looked back and forth between the mechs, confused. "It's a boat."

"Way to point out the obvious, Squishie." Sunstreaker snorted in amusement.

Amy had found herself on the far side of the island at a small marina. There were three docks each with moorings for five boats each side. With such a small population on the island, totaling about 1700 military personnel (herself included), and about 1500 civilian contractors, there probably weren't many boaters. Those that could afford the luxury were probably on the high end of the government pay scale judging by how large and nice these boats were. As it was, there were only about ten of them currently moored that she could see. She still had no idea why they'd come here but she was getting a very strange feeling about the whole situation.

"Yes, it's a boat," Sides confirmed. "But, it's not just any boat. Come on. Take a look at this."

Amy followed slowly as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker set off down the pier in the direction of the closest boat. When the two stopped walking she came to a halt in between them. At first, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking at. Then, she caught sight of the name scrawled across the boat's hull. "Oh, my God," she snorted in laughter. "The 'Lamberdinghy'. Are you serious? That is hysterical!"

"Yeah," Sideswipe grinned mischievously. "Sunny and I were wandering around one day and we stumbled across it. It's like a sign or something."

"A sign?" Amy shook her head, not understanding. She looked over to see if maybe Sunstreaker would clarify but he seemed to be busy studying the way the hawser running from the ship was tied off around the cleat on the pier.

As if he felt her eyes on him, Sunstreaker turned to the woman and asked, "So, how does this sailing thing work, Squishie? We just untie it, turn it on and go?"

"Wait..." The reality of the situation suddenly seemed to dawn on Amy. "Who's boat is this?"

Sunny shrugged. "How should we know?"

"You're trying to steal a boat?" Amy shook her head, backing away from the pair. "Do you even know how to drive a boat?"

"We're not stealing the boat, Ames." Sides insisted. "We're just borrowing it for a couple hours and you're a sailor so...we thought this would be right up your alley. You know, something you'd enjoy doing. Get back out the water and all that."

"First of all," Amy held up one finger, "Borrowing something without asking is the same thing as stealing it. Secondly," she held up another finger, "I'm an Operations Specialist, not a Boatswains Mate. I've never been at the helm of a ship in my life. I'm not taking somebody's boat."

"Don't worry about it, Squishie." Sunstreaker tapped the side of his head. "We'll take care of it. We can google the instructions."

"Yeah," Sides agreed. "It's fine, Ames. No worries. We got this."

"I think you're missing my point, guys." Amy crossed her arms over her chest, barely noticing that the tugging had settled in the twins' presence, caught up in the moment as she was. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you can get into for stealing a boat?"

"What's the worst that can happen?" Sideswipe chuckled. "Prowl will get his tailpipe all twisted and toss us in the brig for a couple days and Prime will give us another stern talking to. Par for the course."

"We'd be out before the week is up," Sunny confirmed smugly. "We're too valuable out on the field for them to keep us locked up too long."

"Which is all well and good for you two." Amy explained, "You report to Prime who seems like a pretty understanding guy. The United States Navy isn't so forgiving if you get caught breaking the law. Vehicle theft is a felony and pretty much a one way ticket to Captain's Mast, having your rank stripped, losing your security clearance, being dishonorably discharged from service, and then sent back to wherever you came from. That's before criminal and civil law even kicks in and takes effect."

The brothers looked at one another. They'd clearly not considered the fact that Amy was indeed a human, a member of the human military despite the fact that she was under Jazz's supervision, and subject to the regulations and whims of an entirely different chain of command. Of course, they knew she was human. They certainly hadn't forgotten that little fact. That's what made this whole situation so slagging complicated. If she was their same species, things would have been so much easier. Still, they had some kind of connection. A serious one if their sparks were to be trusted. It took them only a moment to decide that the risk outweighed the benefit. If they were somehow caught...

No. They wouldn't risk having her taken away from them over a silly boat ride.

"New plan, Squishie," Sunstreaker suddenly announced. "There's a lighthouse not far from here. Are there any laws against watching the sunset?"

"No," Amy felt relief flood through her. She smiled up at the mech. "Thank you."

The yellow twin held the woman's gaze for a long moment, his face nearly unreadable except for the slight upward twitch at the corner of his mouth. He quietly rumbled, "You're welcome." Then, to his brother, "Come on, Sides. Let's get out of here."

The silver mech vented in disappointment and gave the 'Lamberdinghy' one last, longing glance before nodding. "Yeah, alright." To Amy he assured, "The last thing we want to do is get you into any trouble, Ames."

"I appreciate that." Amy thanked him. "I really do."

The silver mech smiled down at her then, with a nod, both he and his twin transformed into their alt modes. Sides popped his door open in invitation. "Your chariot awaits."

Awkwardly and having no other choice, Amy climbed inside. She'd never get used to this, she thought. She was careful not to touch anything unnecessarily. After her first ride with Sunstreaker she was still a bit traumatized over the whole riding in an alien robot thing. Though Sides had not yet voiced any complaint, the very idea of literally being inside of the mech weirded her out. So, she sat stiffly behind the steering wheel with her hands clasped tightly together on her lap. The mech had certainly noticed. His laughter filled the car's interior as he pulled out and followed his twin down the road, the vibrations feeling as though they went straight through her to lodge in the pit of her stomach. She shivered.

"Loosen up, Ames." By the tone of his voice, it wasn't hard to imagine the teasing grin that would have been on his face had he been in robot form. "It's alright. You can relax, you know. I don't bite, but...Sunny might if you really wanted him to."

Amy felt the blood rush to her face. That had sounded like a pretty blatant sexual innuendo which, she told herself, was completely crazy. She laughed, albeit nervously. "Sorry," she apologized and tried to change the subject. "It's just...this isn't weird for you?"

Curious, the mech asked, "What's that?"

"This," Amy gestured around herself. "Rearranging yourself into a car and driving around with people inside of you."

"I hadn't really thought too much about it," Sideswipe admitted. "Transformation is a natural attribute of our species. Like...camouflage, I guess. We just do it. We don't really think about it. And," he added with a hint of flirtatious teasing in his voice, "The only person who's ever been inside of either of us is you."

Amy didn't think it was possible for her to blush any harder than she already had been but Sideswipe had just proven her wrong. The words sounded incredibly intimate when he'd said them. Amy's mouth had suddenly gone dry but she managed to squeak out, "Oh, I-I see."

The mech chuckled in amusement and the rest of the short trip was carried out in a comfortable silence with nothing but the growl of the car's high performance engine and the rumble of the road beneath low-profile tires. In no time at all, It seemed like Sideswipe was announcing their arrival and opening his door for her once more so that she could climb out. Amy did so without hesitation to find Sunstreaker already standing there in his natural form, hands on hips, staring up at the lighthouse.

"So," he asked as she approached. "What do you think?"

Amy came to a halt next to the mech. Sideswipe came to stand on her other side, also studying the structure. Normally, being sandwiched in between two such large beings would have made her incredibly nervous but, for whatever reason, at that moment she probably felt safer than she ever had in her entire life. She tried not to dissect the feeling too much. Instead, she craned her head back to look at the structure, as well.

It wasn't meant to be pretty, that's for sure. It was more utilitarian than anything, nothing like the quaint, picturesque lighthouses that dotted the Virginia coast where she'd been previously stationed onboard her last command. The Diego Garcia Harbor Control Tower Lighthouse was essentially just an automated 250 Watt halogen lamp affixed atop an enormous stainless steel tower to keep ships from smashing into the atoll. As a sailor, she could appreciate the function. As a woman, who had to remind herself that this was not some kind of bizarre date, it didn't exactly scream romance in any way, shape, or form, Still, it was the thought that counted and it was certainly preferable to potential criminal charges and a dishonorable military discharge on her record for felony vehicular theft.

A pleased smile graced Amy's lips, "It's perfect."

It wasn't long after that Amy had found herself perched upon a small outcropping of smooth rocks that ran the length of a shoal that extended out beyond the lighthouse to a teeny tiny island she was certain was only visible during times of low tide. It was a great spot to sit and watch the sun slip down all the way beneath the surface of the crashing waves. Sideswipe was stretched out to her right, lazing in the sand with a glowing purplish cube of what he called 'high grade' within arms reach. He'd explained to her that it was sort of like energon, just with more "kick". Sunstreaker was to her left. He'd whipped a large canvas tarp out from somewhere to sit on, refusing to get any of the sand anywhere but on his feet and that was only due to the necessity of having to actually walk through it. He was sipping his own cube of the purple concoction and currently seemed to be studying the colors painted across the sky with a critical eye.

Amy took a drink of the bottle of water she'd been given...also something Sunstreaker had been storing somewhere within himself for some reason only he and God knew. It was perfectly chilled, something she'd been curious about but not enough to question the mech. He'd offered her the bottle after she'd had to politely decline the bottle of wine Sideswipe had procured for her from somewhere on base. She hasn't asked. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, honestly. She'd had to explain to the both of them that she was still considered "too young" to drink alcohol...at least for another seven and a half months...and that she could get in trouble for underage drinking in the military just as easily as she could for stealing a boat. She'd seen many junior crewman sent to Mast for just that reason and didn't want to be counted among them. They'd found the entire idea completely ridiculous, especially Sunstreaker.

"So, let me get this straight," Sunny had pressed, "Your government will let you drive a vehicle, essentially a two-ton death machine, when you're sixteen."

"Right," Amy laughed at the look of consternation on the mech's face.

"When you turn eighteen, they treat you legally as an adult, let you participate in the electoral process, and will allow you to volunteer yourself to be sent out into the middle of a slagging war zone if you want. But," the mech continued, "They don't trust you enough to let you go out and get overcharged with your friends without making a glitch of yourself until you're twenty-one?"

Amy raised a brow at the term 'overcharged' but nodded in agreement all the same. "Yep. That's about the gist of it."

"I'm sorry, Squishie," Sunny vented, taking a deep drink from his cube. "You live on an aft backwards planet."

Sides chuckled, "You can say that again, bro."

Amy shook her head, snorting in amusement. "You know what's sad? I really can't even disagree with you. It certainly feels like that sometimes."

"Hey, Ames," Sideswipe asked curiously, "When is your birthday, exactly?"

"It's in April," she informed. "On the 28th."

Sideswipe grinned, "I'll mark it on my calendar. We'll save the wine."

Amy laughed, "I'll be looking forward to it. What about you guys," she asked. "Do you celebrate birthdays back on Cybertron?"

"Not really," the silver twin admitted with a shrug. "We're a pretty long lived species in general. At least we were before this slagging war broke out. I guess no one really saw any point in it."

"Oh. I guess that's understandable. So," Amy sipped at her water, "How old are you guys?"

"Old enough to drink a cube of high grade without the authorities glitching out on us," Sunny joked earning a giggle from the femme.

"We're not that old." Sideswipe clarified, "Only twenty-four vorns. Comparatively speaking, we're not all that much older than you are."

"Young adults," Sunstreaker confirmed, taking another sip from his cube.

"Ah, gotcha." Amy nodded. Still curious she asked, "How long is a vorn in my time?"

Sunny thought for a moment and then answered, "It's about eighty-three Earth years."

"Okay, so that's..." She took a sip of water as she quickly did the calculations in her head. When the math came back, she sputtered, nearly choking on her beverage.

Immediately concerned, Sides sat up and began patting her on the back. "Whoa, Ames...you alright?"

Amy nodded in the affirmative in between gulps of air. Once she'd recovered sufficiently enough to speak she gasped, "Jesus Christ! You're almost two-thousand years old?!"

"Primus, Squishie," Sunny had sat up, tense and concerned. Seeing that the woman was alright, he sank back to lean against the rocks. "When you put it that way..."

"It's not that big of a deal, Ames. You have to think comparative, like I said." Sideswipe grinned, "You want to talk old? Now Ironhide...that's an ornery old bucket of bolts. He's old even to us."

The woman shook her head in wonder. "How- how old is he?"

Sunstreaker gestured to the sky which was now dotted by the glow of distant suns and smirked, "Let's just say that there's probably stars burning up there that are younger than he is and leave it at that."

Sides asked, "You haven't met Bumblebee yet, have you?"

"The scout?" Amy shook her head. "No."

"That scrapper is still a youngling." He informed, "If the war hadn't happened and our whole planet hadn't gone straight to the Pit, he'd probably still be at home living with his creators."

"Oh, my God..." Dumbfounded Amy sat back and contemplated that bit of info. She wondered if Advisor Galloway had any idea that the beings he talked to as if they were naive, unruly children were actually thousands of years his senior with more experience under their belts than he could ever fathom. "That's insane."

"It doesn't bother you, does it?" Sideswipe cautiously asked. "Us being so...old?"

"What? No," Amy insisted. "It's just...I can't even imagine being alive that long." Her forehead furrowed in thought. "I'm not sure I'd want to be, honestly."

Curiosity piqued, Sunstreaker asked, "Why's that?"

Amy shrugged, "I don't know. I've been alive for over twenty years and it really hasn't been all that great so far..."

"Ames..." Sideswipe shot his brother a concerned glance. "Why? What makes you say that?"

Amy's eyes widened. She hadn't meant to say anything like that. She didn't want pity or anyone feeling sorry for her. "It's nothing," she denied. "Don't pay any attention to me. I'm sorry for being a downer. Please," she nearly begged, "This has been a really nice evening. Let's not ruin it."

Sides had long suspected that his Ames was dragging around as much baggage as he and Sunny were and he communicated to his brother as much via comm when it looked like the other mech was going to press the issue. Sunny didn't look too happy about dropping the subject. Neither did Sideswipe, for that matter. It was instinct to want to care for your mate...a thought that nearly caused his processor to grind to a halt for a moment. It was the first time he'd seriously thought of her as such. It was a sobering realization. He filed the train of thought away to discuss with Sunny later.

"Yeah," Sideswipe reluctantly agreed. "Sure, Ames."

"Thank you," she quietly whispered.

The three lapsed into a peaceful silence punctuated only by the intermittent calls of local seabirds flying overhead. Night truly had fallen by this time. The only light in their vicinity came from the stars and the moon reflecting off the water. Every so often the beam from the lighthouse would wash over them, illuminating the landscape for a moment before plunging it into cool darkness once again as it moved on. Amy again found herself entranced at the way the soft, blue glow from the mechs' optics gently highlighted their faces in the dark. With a sigh, she pulled her gaze away looked out over the crashing waves. She loved the water and couldn't imagine her life without it.

Inquisitively she asked, "Are there oceans where you're from?"

"Mhmm," Sunstreaker quietly replied. "The aren't quite like this though."

"Will you tell me about them?" She asked softly, looking up at the mech in time to see him nod his head.

"Yeah, Squishie," he agreed. "Whatever you want."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"I really wish you could see yourself." Sideswipe chuckled, a low, amused sound which caused his brother to growl.

Sunny glowered at his twin, "Not a word, cogsucker."

His brother's irritation only made Sides laugh harder. "Don't worry, Sunshine. Like I said, your secret is safe with me."

"Don't call me that," Sunstreaker warned half-heartedly. He shook his head, "I can't believe this slag..."

"Twice in a row?" Sideswipe grinned at his brother, "I'd definitely take it as a compliment, bro."

The yellow mech hummed noncommittally, keeping his face carefully neutral and his gaze fixed out over the water. At some point over the course of him describing what the oceans on Cybertron were like -vast expanses of liquidized metal versus the salt water on here on Earth- and Sideswipe recounting a time the two of them had blown every credit they had to their names to take a trip to the coast of Valvolux just to see the Mithril Sea, the femme had begun to droop in exhaustion. Thinking to prevent her from dozing off where she sat and tumbling from her rocky perch, he'd offered her a spot on his tarp.

As they'd continued chatting, the breeze blowing in off the ocean picked up significantly bringing with it a slight chill in the otherwise tropical locale. Despite the long sleeves she wore, Amy had shivered slightly. Without any real planning or coordination, he and Sides had moved closer together, sitting shoulder to shoulder with each other and sandwiching the woman between them, creating an effective wind block for the small femme. The heat that radiated from their frames must have warmed her seeing as she stopped her shivering and seemed to relax. Eventually, she'd drifted off and, much as she had when they'd all shared the movie night, curled herself into Sunstreaker's frame.

The mech had tried to ignore how neatly she seemed to fit into the slight concave depression of his waist. The task had become much more difficult when, in her sleep, she'd slung one of her arms around him as far as it would go and nestled herself comfortably beneath his arm. Not knowing what else to do, he'd wrapped his hand about her shoulders, holding her securely against his frame, with his thumb gently caressing up and down her clothed arm in a soothing motion. He could feel her slight breaths feathering over his abdominal plating and did his best to block out the feedback from his sensor grid telling him that it felt good. Though his spark was more than pleased by this development, his processor was still having a difficult time reconciling the situation. It was far from normal and though his vehement opposition had waned, he still had many reservations.

"Thank you for doing this, Sunstreaker...for giving this a chance." Sideswipe's softly spoken gratitude broke through his brother's introspection. The use of the mech's full, creator-given name letting him know just how sincere he was. He regarded his twin with bright optics, "I really mean it."

"I know you do," Sunny rumbled in reply.

Sideswipe nodded and looked down at the sleeping woman and smiled. "Think she had as much trouble sleeping the other night as we did recharging?"

"Primus," Sunstreaker frowned, "I hope not."

"She looks so small next to you like that..." the silver mech observed.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, "Well, she's a human so..."

Sides snorted and reached to push her hair back behind her ear. "Have you given any thought as to how we could maybe...you know?"

"No," Sunny gave his brother a sharp look. Then curiously, "Have you?"

"I mean, yeah," Sideswipe admitted. "We can only play off this whole 'friends' thing for so long, you know? Eventually, we're going to have to figure out how to move things along. Not just for our sake but for her's, too."

"And?" Sunny asked with a raised brow.

"I don't know," Sideswipe shrugged. "She's...fragile." He carefully lifted her hand from where it lay looped around his brother's waist and held it carefully in his own, his lips curling slightly hearing the mech's subconscious growl of protest. "I don't want us to hurt her."

Sunstreaker nodded. That was one thing he could agree on.

"So," Sideswipe shot his brother a cheeky grin. "What do you want to do with her?"

Sunstreaker shot his brother a warning glare.

"I meant," the mech chuckled, "For the night."

Sunny vented, "We could wake her up and drop her back off at the barracks..."

Sides raised a brow, "Or?"

"Or," Sunstreaker continued, "We could keep her and maybe get a decent recharge tonight."

"Plan B it is, then. Here..." Sideswipe gave a satisfied sigh and pushed himself up onto his wheels, reaching to take the woman from his brother while the other mech gathered the tarp and their empty high grade cubes. He gazed down upon the femme in his arms with a tender expression. "Looks like you're coming home with us tonight, sweet spark." To his brother he added, "She's completely out of it. I don't think she'll care much where she sleeps anyway."

Sunstreaker tucked the last of their stuff away into subspace and jerked his head in the direction of the road. "Let's get out of here. I'm exhausted, myself."

Sideswipe tucked the woman in close to his chest and took off after his twin. "Right behind you, bro."

 **End** **of** **Chapter** **20**


	21. Chapter 21

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 21**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! So, the results are in. I've read all your reviews and messages and the consensus seems to be that you all like your fluff with a healthy side of smut (my kind of people!) so I'm definitely going to keep that in mind. As always, much love to those who've added this story to their alerts and favorites. So happy to have you along on this adventure! Special snuggles to those who've taken time to leave me reviews and feedback: YaoiPrincess12, AD Axe, Malkah5967, adelphe24, opalwolf12, DaLadyofSouls, Stranno Roza, Bearloveforever, Songbird's Spirit, ElleGirl19, HenriettaDarlington, iGleep, KayleeChiara, Guest, sakurawriter, MysticFire101, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Ixsa, the everchanging, Leonixon. The review feature has been kind of jacked up this week so if I've missed anyone, I'm sorry! This chapter didn't turn out quite how I wanted it but it's as good as it's going to get. The jig is up!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It was a quiet Saturday morning, one that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were most appreciative for as they were few and far between. Though, there was an underlying anxiousness that pervaded most meetings recently mostly due to the fact that things had been eerily quiet on the Decepticon front, a development which certainly didn't sit well with anyone. Regardless, they were free for the day for once and they'd carefully checked the duty roster to ensure Amy had no where that she needed to be either. She was in the clear for the weekend so there was no rush to be up and about. Good, old Jazz looking out for her, no doubt. Lucky for them all the TIC believed wholesparkedly in the benefits of down time.

The evening previous had been an enjoyable one, even if they hadn't got to carry out their original plans. Still, they chose to view any time spent with the femme as a good time if it furthered their fledgling connection. They could certainly feel it, the need to be close and protect what belonged to them. They wondered what it felt like for her on her end. Confusing, no doubt. Sideswipe, especially, felt guilty for leaving her very much in the dark regarding the true nature of their situation but also viewed it as a necessary evil for the time being. After all, he and Sunny were still trying to figure things out themselves. Right now, however, they were simply enjoying the opportunity to take some time to relax in each others' presence.

Sideswipe lay propped up in his berth, still feeling lazy even after one of the most restful recharges he could ever remember having in a really long time. He hummed quietly along to the music he was streaming from the internet as he read over a data pad. It was an old book, a classic, written way back during Cybertron's 'Golden Age' that he'd probably read a couple hundred times already but he enjoyed nonetheless. Sprawled across his chest plates, upon a folded up blanket to protect her from his pointy bits, Amy was still fast asleep. He'd accepted the femme from his brother earlier that morning so that he could go retrieve their morning energon rations. Despite how much Sunny grumbled and complained about drool and organic-ness, Sides knew he was quickly becoming attached to the woman. He looked down upon the dozing femme, and smiled to himself. She was, without a doubt, adorable...at least in his optics. Human or not. No one could convince him otherwise.

Feeling as if all were right in the world at that very moment, Sideswipe gently ran the pads of his fingers up and down her back in a comforting motion and returned to his reading. Amy shifted slightly at being touched, stretching, and causing Side's fingers to graze along her arm for a moment instead. As it did, the fabric of her t-shirt caught on the slightly roughened pads of his fingertips, raising her sleeve slightly and exposing the soft flesh beneath. Carefully disentangling himself so as not to damage her clothing, his optics drank in the sight of this new, previously unseen skin. As he did so, however, his brow plates furrowed in concern.

Turning the woman's arm to get a better look, he delicately pinched the fabric of her sleeve between two fingers to pull it up further. He counted five small, slightly raised circular marks marring the skin between her wrist and elbow joint. Curious, he carefully raised her other sleeve, as well, where he counted six more. A twinge of anger flashed across his synapses. He recognized scarring when he saw it. Primus knew he and Sunny had their fair share of weld seams. For some reason, though, these strange, little marks seemed purposeful in their placement, not something that would occur naturally or from accidental injury.

The door to the berth room opened slowly and Sunstreaker poked his head inside. Seeing his twin still in the berth and their femme still snoozing away, he quietly slipped inside and shut the door softly behind himself. He approached his brother's berth with a cube of energon in hand and an amused grin on his face. "Still not awake? Does this femme ever sleep when we're not around?"

"I guess her bed isn't as comfortable as you are, apparently." Sideswipe teased his brother, grinning playfully but quickly turned his attention back to the woman's arms. "Hey, Sunny...have you these?"

"Seen what?" Hearing the worry in his brother's voice, Sunstreaker sank down next to him on the berth, being careful not to jostle the femme and wake her, to better see what had caught his attention. His optics narrowed and his jovial mood instantly evaporated. "What the frag are those?"

"They look like scars," Sides muttered. "What do you think made them?"

"No idea," Sunstreaker shook his head and ran a finger lightly over the exposed skin, tickling, and causing Amy to twitch. "But, I'm going to find out if she ever decides to wake up."

Sideswipe opened his mouth to respond but before he could there was a loud pounding on the door.

Sunstreaker was up on his feet instantly, immediately going into defensive mode. He cursed, "Son of a glitch..."

The sound had startled the slumbering woman on Sides' chest and she had flew up into a sitting position with a gasp, hands clutched over her pounding heart, confused and frightened. It was only Sideswipe's fast reflexes that allowed him to get a hold on her before she tumbled off of him onto the berth, or worse, hit the floor.

Amy blinked in up at Sideswipe, still groggy and confused, "Whatsit...whashappened? Where am I?"

"Hey, hey, hey, Ames..." the mech soothed the addled woman. "You're with us. You're okay. You're fine. You fell asleep out at the lighthouse so Sunny and me brought you home with us for the night to crash."

"She alright?" Sunny eyed the female with concern, scars momentarily forgotten.

"Yeah," Sides nodded. "She's fine."

The pounding came again except this time Ironhide's voice rang out with it. "Open up, you clutch-munching piston-lickers!"

Sideswipe eyed the door warily, concerned for Amy's sake. "The Pit does he want?"

"Don't know," Sunstreaker growled. He turned to his brother, giving Amy another once over to assure himself that she really was okay. Physically, she was fine but otherwise looked completely lost and slightly rattled. "Hide her somewhere."

Sides looked around the room. "Where?"

Sunstreaker snapped, "I don't fragging know! Somewhere that bucket head won't see her."

"Frag me..." the silver mech muttered. His optics swept over the area looking for anyplace big enough to stash a human. They finally landed on a large box sitting in the corner that they'd been meaning to throw out. It had, at one time, contained a bulk shipment of handmade, hand poured, Mitchell & King car wax that Sunny had specially ordered after reading an article about the stuff in a luxury car magazine.

"I know you frackers are in there!" The pounding came again.

Sideswipe looked at Amy, face full of apology. "We're so, so sorry about this sweet spark."

Amy was still having trouble figuring out exactly what was happening. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure. We're going to find out but right now," Sides vented anxiously, "We need you to get in this box and be very, very quiet."

"I...what?" Amy shook her head as the mech lifted her from the berth, "Why?"

"Please, sparklet," he nearly begged. "We don't want to get you in any trouble. I promise you, we'll make it up to you later. Just...trust us."

Amy opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut again. Despite her better judgement, something in her did trust the two of them. "Alright," she reluctantly agreed, "Okay..."

"Thank you," Sides breathed in relief as he pressed his lip plates to the woman's forehead in both apology and affection. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. It's just until we can get rid of Ironhide, I promise, " he assured her as he lowered her into the container. "Be still and be quiet."

Amy nodded in agreement and sat down, hugging her knees up to her chest as Sideswipe closed the lid and sealed her in darkness.

"I don't like doing this, Sunny. We shouldn't have to sneak around. We aren't doing anything wrong," Sides glumly stated as he threw Amy's blanket over the box to hide it.

"I know," Sunstreaker admitted. "Me neither." He cast a glance from the box back to his brother, "Ready?"

Sideswipe flopped back down onto his berth, trying to look as casual as possible. He nodded, "Ready."

Drawing air down deep into his intakes, the yellow mech forcefully wrenched the door open. He grit his denta together, growling out, "The frag you want, Hide? We're off duty this cycle."

The Weapon Specialist grinned, almost sadistically. "Contraband inspection."

Sunstreaker demanded, "Who's authorization?"

"Mine." The carefully clipped voice of the SIC sounded as the black and white mech appeared at Ironhide's side. "Ironhide has informed me that you've advised him to 'feel free' to check your quarters for Advisor Galloway's missing projector."

"Unbelievable," Sunny rolled his optics. "Is that flesh bag still whining about that slag?"

Prowl asked, "Are you still denying that you and your brother had nothing to do with it going missing? If you've nothing to hide, this shouldn't take long and you can go about your business."

Sunstreaker cast a quick glance over to his brother who frowned back at him, but nodded. "Fine," Sunny relented and slammed the door back on its folding hinges, causing it to clatter open. "Make it quick."

With a nod, Prowl stepped through the open doorway with Ironhide following right behind.

Ironhide surveyed the space, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Suspicious of how long it took the pair to answer the door he asked, "What were you two glitch spawns doing in here?"

"Twin stuff," Sideswipe cryptically answered from where he lounged, throwing in an impish grin and a suggestive waggle of his brow plates. There were a lot of rumors about the twin dynamic and what all it entailed, especially in private. The more salacious assumptions were mostly a bunch of slag but bots still liked to talk. They never bothered to correct anyone. The pair weren't above playing into gossip if it furthered their agenda, especially in their current situation. "You mechs wouldn't understand."

Sunstreaker smirked in amusement, "We'd like to get back to it so if you slaggers could..." he made a shooing motion with his hands, encouraging them to hurry.

Ironhide looked mildly disgusted but said no more, instead opting to rummage around the shelving unit.

One of Prowl's optics twitched slightly but he otherwise he kept his unaffected air. He approached the wall opposite Sides' berth, honing in on screw holes where it looked like something had been mounted. Ever the detective, he ran a finger over one of them, noting that it looked fresh. He turned to the silver twin, "What was here?"

Sideswipe shrugged, "Some ugly aft poster about electrical safety. We threw that slag straight in the dumpster."

Prowl merely cocked a brow plate as he continued his stroll around the room, mentally cataloging its contents. He gestured to a set of mounting brackets affixed to the ceiling, "And there?"

"Old lighting fixture," Sunstreaker provided in a bored tone. "It was broke so we took it down."

"I've got nothing over here, Prowl." Ironhide sounded annoyed and more than a little disappointed. "Just a bunch of wax and personal items."

"Hmm..." Prowl hummed. "Is it permissible to check beneath your berths?"

Sunstreaker slumped against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest plates. "Knock yourself out."

Prowl knelt to look under the yellow twin's berth first. There wasn't much room between it and the floor, but enough that Galloway's property could have conceivably been shoved beneath it. His optics scanned the space. There was no projector but he did spy some sort of small case that had been shoved into a crevice within the berth's frame. Reaching under, he pulled it out to inspect it. It was definitely Cybertronian in design and looked fairly expensive. He could have been wrong but it appeared to be finely forged palladium that had been buffed to high shine. Lovely craftsmanship, if he did say so. Turning the case over in his hands, he found Sunstreaker's name engraved on the lid in fancy, stylized glyphs. Curious, he stood and deposited the case on top of the mech's berth to take a closer look.

"Hey," Sunstreaker snapped, "That's personal and has nothing to do with what you're looking for!"

Sideswipe sat up and swung his legs over the side of his berth. He stood in order to better see, instantly recognizing the case for what it was. After all, he'd been the one that had gotten it for Sunny way back when, using the credits he'd made selling some unauthorized and illegal tech he'd come into possession of. His optics widened slightly in surprise. "I didn't know you still had that, Sunny. I thought it was lost a long time ago."

Sunny merely shook his head, watching as the SIC snapped open the the case to peer inside at its contents.

"These are..." Prowl's optic twitched again, one brow raising minutely, "Paint brushes?"

"Very observant," Sunstreaker barked as he stomped over to the berth and snatched the case out of the SIC's hands, snapping it shut once again. He bent and shoved the case back beneath his berth. "Nothing gets by you, does it? Now I know why Prime made you his Second."

Nonplussed, Prowl eyed the mech for a moment, then turned to inspect underneath Sideswipe's berth, as well. Finding nothing, he rose to his feet, door wings held high. He turned to face the twins. "I'm giving you both one last opportunity. If either of you know where the equipment is, say so now, and I'll be lenient in your punishment."

"You've already rummaged through all our stuff, Prowl," Sides insisted. "Like Sunny told Ironhide, we can't help you. It wasn't us. What else do you want?"

"Hey, Prowl," Ironhide nudged the other mech. "What's that?"

Sunstreaker followed the Weapon Specialist's line of sight and snarled, "That's none of your fragging business."

"Is that so?" Ironhide elbowed his way by Prowl and made a beeline for the box in the corner.

"It's just an empty box, Hide." Sideswipe stepped into the mech's way. "There's nothing in it. We've been meaning to toss it out."

"Empty, huh?" Ironhide eyed the mech. "Then I guess you won't mind if I take a look. Get out of the way."

"Get out of our quarters," Sunstreaker demanded. "There's nothing else to see here."

Prowl questioned, "Are you refusing to cooperate?"

"I don't need them to cooperate, Prowl," Ironhide gleefully rumbled. "I know they're hiding something. They can either move or be moved." Ironhide tried to take a step around the silver twin only to have his path blocked once more.

"I'm telling you, Hide," Sides argued, "Its nothing."

"And I'm telling you," Hide stepped closer, invading the mech's personal space, "You either hand over that box so we can see what's in it, or I'm going to take it by force."

"The Pit, you will," Sunstreaker ground out.

Before anyone in the room could really even process what was happening, Sunstreaker had charged the Weapon Specialist, catching him by surprise. The front liner's shoulder rammed into the larger mech's side, sending him off balance. Ironhide stumbled backwards, slamming into Sideswipe's berth. Prowl was already comming the others for assistance as the two mechs crashed to the floor, grappling for dominance. Sideswipe wanted to help his brother but knew Sunny could hold his own in a fight. His primary concern was Amy.

Without hesitation and completely ignoring Prowl's order to "not move", he dove for the box. If anything happened to her, they'd never forgive themselves. He ripped the blanket off of it and tore open the lid. By the time Ratchet came rusting in the room with Mirage following on his heels, he'd scooped Amy from her dark hiding place, her shriek of fear and surprise feeling as though it stabbed through his spark. He cradled the woman protectively, trying to shield her from the worst of the mayhem as Sunstreaker and Ironhide were forcibly separated. Prowl, of course, hadn't missed a beat.

"What is going on here," the black and white mech demanded.

"We can explain," Sideswipe promised. "Just...leave her out of it."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Mortified. That was really the only word Amy could come up with to explain the way she was feeling at that very moment. Despite Sideswipe's request to "leave her out of it", she certainly hadn't been. If ever there was a time that she wished the Earth would just open up and swallow her whole, this would be it. She'd always been a straight shooter, trying her best to stay out of trouble and fly under the radar. She didn't need and/or want anyone's scrutiny. Life, she'd found, was easier for her when no one paid her any attention. Now, in the eerie quiet of Prime's office, she could literally feel every eye/optic in the room gazing in her direction, especially those of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. It made her skin prickle and her face flush with heat. She tried to ignore it, sat stiffly in her chair, hands grasped tightly together, and stared intently down at her lap.

It was Optimus who finally broke the silence, his deep baritone rumbling through the room like thunder. "Can either of you explain why you were keeping Petty Officer Doe inside of a box in your room?"

"I'd certainly like to hear an explanation," Jazz had come as soon as Prowl had summoned him and filled him in on the situation. "After Sunstreaker's little episode the other day, I thought I'd made myself clear that you two were to leave her alone."

"We weren't keeping her in a box," Sideswipe insisted. "It's not what it looks like, Jazz. We were just trying to keep her from getting into trouble."

Jazz demanded, "By shoving her into a box?"

Sunstreaker growled, "We didn't shove her into a box!"

Prowl questioned, "What was she doing in your room?"

Sunstreaker threw an accusing glare in Ironhide's direction. "She was recharging until that gashole started beating the door down and screaming obscenities."

Ironhide glowered at the pair, "If you two fraggers weren't such a pain in the aft all the time, I wouldn't have had to get nasty. You're lucky that's all I did..."

"Ironhide..." Optimus pinched the bridge of his nasal plates and shuttered his optics, "Can either of you please explain why Petty Officer Doe was sleeping in your room and not in the barracks?"

"We spent the evening together and decided we'd take her home with us last night. It was late. We were all exhausted and really didn't feel like taking her all the way over to the other side of the base. Plus," Sideswipe shrugged, nonchalantly adding, "She enjoys sleeping with Sunny."

Amy's head flew up, eyes widening comically, as she felt heat flood her face. This was by far the most humiliating experience she'd been subjected to in recent memory. Certainly, she'd endured worse, been accused of worse, but once she'd escaped the system she was sure the worst was behind her. She could only imagine what was running through the minds of those present, the judgement they were passing on her in the privacy of their own heads. She opened her mouth to protest Sideswipe's poor choice of words but the only thing she could manage to get out was a strangled, choking sound.

Sideswipe, who stood closest to where she sat, looked down on her with concerned optics. He knelt, reaching to gingerly touch the woman on the shoulder. "Ames, are you alright?"

Amy pulled away from the mech, swatting his hand away. She settled for shaking her head vehemently back and forth, finally managing a stuttered, "N-no...d-don't."

Sides had drawn back as if he'd been burned, a distinctly hurt look flashing across his faceplates before it was hidden away. Her murmured quietly, "Sorry..."

"What's the big deal?" Sunstreaker pressed on, questioning his leader. "You're the one always telling us that we need to be more open minded and accepting of our human allies. We try to follow a directive and Officer Afthole over there drags us all in here to be interrogated."

"You? Accepting of a human?" Ratchet scoffed, "That'll be the day."

"Oh, like you've never been annoyed by them." Sunstreaker sneered, "I've heard you ranting and raving in the med bay. Ironhide's even worse, shoving his cannons in their faces every time he turns around. That's real diplomatic."

Ironhide narrowed his optics at the mech but said nothing.

"Why can't we socialize with a human on our own time," Sideswipe demanded more than asked. "Prime, you let Bee chauffeur that annoying Witwicky kid around and live in his fragging garage for Primus' sake."

"Bumblebee is an upstanding, young mech and a wonderful ambassador of our species," Ratchet interjected. "Unlike you two reprobates."

"Oh, go plug yourself, Hatchet!" Sunstreaker snapped. "You don't know a fragging thing about what's going on!" The mech demanded, "Why is he even here?"

Ratchet cackled, "I'm just here for the cheap entertainment. Watching you two be disciplined is one of my favorite pass times."

"Enough," Optimus brought the room back to order. Directing his attention back to the twins, "Bumblebee is Samuel's guardian, not his chauffeur. His duties require him to be present at the Witwicky household in order to care for his charge and ensure no harm comes to him."

"Our duties are to secure this base and respond to Decepticon activity as needed," Sideswipe argued. "Sunny and I do that without complaint. We know how important the mission is. We aren't half-clocked..."

"Could've fooled me," the CMO muttered.

Optimus vented, "Ratchet, please..."

Sides continued, ignoring the medic. "What's so wrong about us wanting to be friendly with the natives in our downtime?"

"Friendly?" Jazz looked at the mech disbelieving. "Was your brother being friendly when he was scaring the ever-burning spark out of her?"

"That was a misunderstanding," Sunstreaker insisted through clenched denta. "I apologized to the Squishie and we've moved on..."

"Sunstreaker apologizing for something?" Ironhide shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"She's right here," Sides gestured toward Amy. "Why don't you ask her what happened? Go on, Ames," the mech encouraged, "Tell them."

"I...uh..." Amy's eyes darted around the room as all the focus seemed to suddenly be on her person. They were all looking at her, waiting for an explanation. She felt like an ant trapped in a room full of giants just waiting to be stepped on. She swallowed thickly, feeling as though her heart had lodged itself in her throat. The crackling buzz that had since dissipated during her time with the twins had come surging back in an almost demanding manner. She felt hot, her hands coming up to tug at her collar. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and she suddenly felt as though she were viewing the room though a long, dark tunnel.

"Squishie," Sunny observed with concern, "You don't look so good..."

"Aye, D..." Jazz's worried voice chimed in, "You okay over there?"

Amy shook her head, "I-I don't...feel well. I just...I need to leave..." She felt that if she could just get out of this room, get to where there was some fresh air she was sure she'd feel better. The atmosphere seemed suddenly oppressive and she breathed rapidly, trying to get more oxygen. She struggled to stand. The room seemed to swim before her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. She took one step, then two. The concern and protest of the mechs around her were lost as a roaring sound filled her ears. She was vaguely aware of her name being called over the cacophony of rushing blood but didn't have time to register anything more as blackness took over her vision and she felt the ground fall out from beneath her. Perhaps the Earth had decided to answer her prayers and swallow her up, after all.

"Ames!" Sideswipe had moved faster than even he'd thought possible. By the time the others in the room had realized what had happened, he was already cradling the unconscious woman in his hands. The silver mech turned to the CMO, worry and fear etched on his faceplates and demanded, "Don't just stand there, Ratchet, you're the fragging doctor! Do something!"

 **End of Chapter 21**


	22. Chapter 22

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 22**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're having a great day. I'm back again with another chapter. Trying hard to keep the momentum going! I already know pretty much where I'm going with this story so it's just a matter of getting it all written down. In fact, I've already hammered out two future chapters. One made me very, very sad and the other made me very...happy. Prepare yourselves! LOL! Enough of my rambling...As always, THANK YOU so much to all who've added this story to their alerts and favorites. Hugs to my beautiful reviewers: LaurenA007, iGleep, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, jojoniles, AshelyOfChaos, ElleGirl19, TheGreenWallFlower, HenriettaDarlington, The Rabbit Lord, adelphe24, MysticFire101, YaoiPrincess12, Stranno Roza, sakurawriter, KayleeChiara, Bearloveforever, Pixiekatt. Your feedback is priceless!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

One moment Amy had been trying to escape the scrutiny she'd found herself facing and the next moment she'd been transported back to the black abyss of her dreams. After the stress of her previous situation, the cool darkness was almost a blessing. Something seemed different in her eerie dreamscape, however. Something was...off somehow. It took her a moment to realize that her constant companion, the strange presence lurking just out of sight, was silent for once. The quiet was so intense that it nearly made her ears ring. It was still there, she knew. She could still sense it there, just beyond her field of vision, quiet and watching.

Any other time the feeling of being watched by unseen eyes would have put her on edge and sent her into yet another panic. There was something comforting about it, though. It was as if she could feel the weight of concern in its heavy gaze. She wanted to see it, even just a glimpse to put her curiosity to rest. She peered into the dark, squinting, trying to make out something, anything that may be lurking in the shadows. She saw nothing. Whatever, whomever accompanied her through this place was a better hider than she was a seeker.

She wasn't sure exactly what had transpired to send her to this place so suddenly but she knew the routine. She knew what it was ultimately waiting for. Resigning herself to the pursuit of an ever-elusive goal, she looked about, scanning the inky depths for the pinprick of light she, for some reason unknown to her, needed to reach. She spotted it easily and found herself a bit taken aback for a moment. The light suddenly seemed much closer than it had before. In fact, it was close enough now that she was able to determine that it wasn't a single light, but rather, there were two separate ones. One was greater than the other, seeming to put out much more illumination than its slighter counterpart. She studied them a moment, wondering anew at what they could possibly be and why she felt it was so important that she reach them.

A shuffling came from behind, like a great weight being shifted, startling her. So focused she'd been on this new revelation that she'd almost forgotten about her unseen companion for a brief moment. She sighed wearily and nodded her head. "Okay," she agreed. "You don't have to say it. I know. I'm going."

As the woman set off across the darkness, the presence followed along behind, keeping a silent vigil.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"How could you two have done this?" Ratchet demanded. "You could have killed her!"

"We didn't do, anything, Ratchet," Sideswipe argued. "Like we said, it just happened! We didn't set out trying to forge a connection with her but it happened anyway! Believe us, we were as shocked and surprised as you are."

"Why wouldn't you bring this to my attention as soon as it occurred?" Ratchet raved, "Do you have any idea what something like this can do to a human? They aren't built to sustain and house energy as we are! Their electrochemical balance is a very delicate thing! Any deviation could lead to a breakdown of vital physiological and cognitive processes resulting in massive misfiring of neurons within the cerebral cortex, not to mention the disruption to the electrophysiology of the cardiac muscle..."

"We don't give a flying frag about all that medical jargon, Hatchet." Sunstreaker cut the CMO off mid sentence. "All we want to know is, what happened to her and is she going to be alright?"

Ratchet vented in exasperation, "As far as I can tell from my scans, she just fainted. Her heart rate is a bit above normal but other than that, her vitals look fine. No thanks to the two of you..."

"So...she's okay, then?" Getting a sharp nod from Ratchet in response to his question, Sideswipe visibly relaxed. "Thank Primus..."

"That doesn't mean you two are off the hook," Ratchet glared at the pair. "This isn't like one of your pranks that can just be laughed off. This is a serious situation that could have very serious consequences."

"Oh, believe me, Ratchet," Sides assured, "Sunny and I take this very seriously. You have no idea..."

Ratchet looked like he wanted to tear into the mechs again but was interrupted by the clearing of a vocal processor. He turned to find Optimus lingering in the doorway, and anxious-looking TIC by his side. "Yes, yes," Ratchet waved the pair inside. "It's fine. Come in..."

"Aww, D..." Jazz approached the unconscious woman and gently brushed some hair off her forehead before asking, "What happened? Is she gonna be alright?"

"She fainted," Ratchet stated simply. "Any number of factors could have contributed to it. Given the circumstances, though, I'd say hyperventilation was the culprit. Once she wakes, she should be fine."

"Good to hear," Optimus nodded, "but, I'm sensing there's more you're not telling us."

"Indeed," Ratchet harrumphed. "It appears these two slag heaps have somehow managed to find a way to transfer some of their spark energy into Petty Officer Doe."

"We didn't transfer any spark energy," Sideswipe corrected. "It's just something that happened. We didn't have any control over it. We didn't plan it out."

"Say again?" Jazz turned to stare at the silver mech, the look on his faceplates a cross between anger and bewilderment.

"You heard correctly." Ratchet pointed an accusing finger in the twins' direction. "I'm not sure how it was done but my scans clearly show a small amount of their spark essence within Miss Doe."

"How is that possible?" Optimus questioned.

"It shouldn't be possible," Ratchet admitted. "Humans don't have sparks and, as I tried to explain to these two, they aren't equipped to handle that sort of direct energy load. Even with the small amount of energy exchanged, her nervous system should be completely fried."

"Is she," Jazz looked from the prone woman to the medic, anger replaced by fear. "Is she in any danger?"

The CMO shook his head, "I'll know more once she wakes and I can question her but she doesn't appear to be suffering any ill effects currently. Long term, however," the medic paused for a moment and shrugged, "Who knows."

Optimus, concerned yet curious asked, "Do you have any idea what could have caused this?"

"I have a theory." Ratchet nodded, "It's the only way I can even come close to comprehending how this could have occurred. Are any of you familiar with the concept of imprinting?"

"We've read up on it," Sunstreaker confirmed with a nod.

Surprised, Ratchet stared at the mech. "You have?"

"I told you, Ratch," Sideswipe emphasized, "Sunny and I are taking this very seriously."

"That's exceedingly rare, is it not?" Optimus questioned.

"It is," Ratchet broke his disbelieving stare away from the twins and acknowledged. "It typically occurs between two individuals with an unusually high spark compatibility ratio, usually as a precursor to actual spark bonding. Personally, I've only seen it happen once before. Basically, a pair or, in this case, a trine, are so in sync with one another's spark that energy can be swapped between them without a need for direct spark-to-spark contact. It can be quite distressing for the parties involved if they aren't aware of what is happening."

"No slag," Sunstreaker muttered.

"But," Jazz reasoned, "D doesn't have a spark."

"I never claimed to have all the answers," Ratchet admitted. "I do, however, have plenty of questions." He motioned to the group to follow him to his office. Once the door was securely closed and he was settled behind his desk, he asked the twins, "Is Miss Doe aware of this...situation?"

"She knows we have some sort of a connection, that's all," Sides explained. "We didn't want to freak her out or scare her away but we had to tell her something. She thought she was going crazy."

"As far as she knows, the three of us are just good friends," Sunstreaker added. "She was uncomfortable and so were we. We read that spending time together would help with the energy fluctuations, and it has. That's why she was in our quarters."

"Unbelievable," Ratchet vented. "Just how far back does this connection go?"

"Uh," Sideswipe looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. "Since she got off the plane. I saw Epps showing her around that first night and one thing led to another..."

The medic's optics widened, "Since her arrival?! Oh, for Primus' sake..."

"This can't be healthy for a human, doc. In fact, if what you're sayin' is true it's probably what's been makin' her sick." Jazz inquired, "Is there any way you can reverse it?"

"Reverse it? What if we don't want to reverse it?" Sunstreaker growled, the sound startling all present and prompting Sideswipe to lay a calming hand on his twin's shoulder.

"Easy," the silver twin whispered. To the rest of the room he stated, "What Sunny means is, we really like Ames. We enjoy having her around."

"You two bit brains obviously haven't thought this through all the way." Ratchet shook his head, "You can like her all you want. It doesn't change the fact that the stress and pull on your sparks will eventually demand more in order to satisfy it. A spark bond, even an energy exchange as minor as this, is highly habit forming. You can, quite literally, become dependent on it. Have either of you given any thought as to what you plan to do when simple companionship is no longer enough to sate you?"

Sides shrugged, "We'll figure it out when we get there."

"Primus, help me..." Ratchet scrubbed a hand down his face. "What could I have possibly done to deserve the two of you? To answer your question, Jazz...no. It can't be reversed. Cybertron knows if I could, I would, just to save the poor woman from these slaggers. If they'd come to me when it first happened we may have been able to separate them, send Miss Doe back to her ship before the imprinting took hold. Now," the medic shook his head, "I must strongly advise against it. Separation at this point could negatively impact not only Petty Officer Doe but the twins, as well."

Optimus, in deep thought asked, "Do you have any suggestions, then?"

The medic nodded, "The only thing that really can be done at this point is to stabilize the energy that's been transferred and keep fluctuations to a minimum. Doing so would benefit all parties involved, at least for the time being."

Jazz asked, "How do we do that?"

"As much as it pains me to say, these two were on the right track even if their methods were questionable." The CMO leaned back in his chair and looked at Jazz. "Close contact can promote stability of the energy fields and normalize spark fluctuations. In light of the circumstances, I deem its best if they're allowed unrestricted access to Miss Doe."

"Alright," Jazz agreed after a moment. "If it helps D, then, I'm down with that."

A triumphant look spread across Sideswipe's face. Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chassis, looking quite smug. They were quite obviously pleased with the CMO's advice for probably the first time since knowing the mech. For once he was ordering them to do something that they wanted to do anyway instead of lecturing them over their carelessness in battle. It seems getting caught, at least in this instance, may actually be working to their advantage.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear, though," Jazz turned to the twins. "If I catch you two slippin', if I think even for a klik that you're not doin' her right, you'll wish you never laid optics on that femme. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Sides assured. "You don't have to worry, Jazz."

"Also," Ratchet interjected, breaking then tension. "I feel it's probably best that Miss Doe be informed of the extent of what is going on. It may help alleviate some of the confusion I'm sure she's experiencing."

"We intend to tell her everything, doc, just..." Sideswipe shrugged, "When the time is right. She's okay with things like they are right now. We don't want to overload, er, overwhelm her all at once, you know? Besides, something like this is kind of personal between, uh, partners..."

"Fine," Ratchet reluctantly relented. "I'll leave it up to you two but you will tell her. If you don't, I will. Understand?"

"Yeah," Sides agreed. "We will...when she's ready to hear it. We promise."

"I'd also like to see her once a week. Discretely, of course. Jazz, I'm sure you can find a way to convince her to accompany you to your appointments. Nothing invasive, just a quick scan. She probably won't even notice. In the mean time, I'll work on trying to figure out how this happened and what we can do to ensure Miss Doe's wellbeing." The medic received a nod from the TIC and continued, directing his attention back to the twins. "If either of you lug nuts sense or see anything concerning, a change in either her health or demeanor, you will bring her to me immediately."

"Don't get your gaskets all twisted, Hatchet." Sunstreaker smirked, "We know how to take care of a femme."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about." Ratchet jabbed a finger in their direction, "Before you two decide to go off on your own and get all experimental with the poor girl, you clear it with me first. There's no medical precedent for this type of situation so it must be approached with caution."

"Yeah, we get it," Sideswipe insisted. "We're not going to let anything happen to her."

"What is the universe coming to? I can't believe I'm actually advocating turning the two of you loose with a human." Ratchet shook his head sorrowfully and made a shooing motion, "Now go. Get out of my office before I change my mind and suggest that Optimus have Prowl throw you in the brig and lose the key."

Optimus rumbled in amusement as the pair quickly rose and vacated the space, only going so far as the next room where Petty Officer Doe still recovered. "I'd like to be kept abreast of the situation, as well, old friend. The health and safety of our human allies is a primary concern of mine."

"Absolutely," Ratchet agreed. "I'll be sure to pass along any updates."

"My thanks. Though, Petty Officer Doe's wellbeing is paramount," Prime mused. "This may be good for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Perhaps it's just my imagination but they've seemed much more...docile...as of late."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy must have been more out of it than either of them realized. The femme had slept for another hour and a half curled up on the exam table. They'd been left there alone with her with a warning from Ratchet not to disturb her. It had been a hard order to follow given their concern for her as well as the medical confirmation that they did, indeed, share some kind of connection with the woman. Having it all out in the open, at least among their fellow Autobots was a relief in a way. They wouldn't have to sneak around or justify themselves. They could focus on what was really important.

Sunstreaker had rolled Ratchet's stool up next to the exam table and settled his mass atop it. He'd pulled a microfiber cloth out and was polishing his armor when Amy finally began to stir. He quickly subspaced the cloth. "Hey, Sides!"

"What?" The mech looked up from where he'd been rifling through Ratchet's cabinets out of boredom on the other side of the room.

"She's waking up." To the woman he murmured, "Easy does it, Squishie."

"What...what happened?" Amy accepted Sunstreaker's assistance, clinging to one of his fingers as he helped her into a sitting position.

"Hey, Ames," Sideswipe had rushed over, sounding almost breathless in his relief. "Ratchet says you got yourself all worked up and passed out. He brought you over to the med bay to check you out. He says you're going to be fine."

"Oh, my God..." Amy buried her face in her hands as she felt her cheeks flood with heat. Was it humanly possible to humiliate herself any more than she already had? Freaking out and losing consciousness in a room full of giant, alien robots had to be the icing on the cake. She was supposed to be a highly trained professional. Since arriving at Diego Garcia she felt like anything but. Honestly, she felt like a fish out of water. She couldn't swim, she could only flop around uselessly and gasp for air. She honestly didn't understand why they were still keeping her around. She'd been banished for much less in the past.

Sides chuckled and tousled her hair with a finger, "What a way to start the weekend, huh?"

Sunstreaker eyed the femme, "You feeling alright now?"

"Yeah," Amy sniffled and wiped at her eyes. She wouldn't cry, she told herself. She. Would. Not. That never accomplished anything and she'd already embarrassed herself enough for one day. She nodded, "I'm fine, I just..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, "How long was I out?"

"A couple hours," the yellow mech shared, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Oh, my God," Amy repeated again, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to still her pounding heart. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope," Sides confirmed his brother's estimate with a grin. "You must have been really tired. I guess we wore you out pretty good last night."

Amy didn't think it was possible to feel any more scandalized. Though she was almost certain that the mech had no clue what his carelessly thrown about innuendos did to her, it didn't stop her from feeling flustered. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole somewhere and die...or go barricade herself in her room back at the barracks. Whichever got her out of this scenario the fastest. "Am- am I free to go?"

"Uh, yeah," Sides, sensing her melancholy mood, confirmed with a frown. "Ratchet and the others got pulled into an impromptu meeting with Lennox but he said if you woke up and were feeling good enough before he got back that you could leave."

Amy sighed in relief, "Great..."

"Here, Squishie." Sunstreaker saw the woman searching for a way down off the table and offered her a hand. She looked nervous as all get out but, not really having any other options, allowed him to lift her from the exam table and place her carefully onto the ground.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"So," Sides tentatively asked, "What do you want to do the rest of the day? Are you hungry? We can grab you some lunch. Prowl and Hide pretty much ruined our plans for breakfast in bed this morning."

"Um," Amy shuffled her feet, one hand going to her forehead to try to massage away the ache forming behind her eyes. "If it's all the same, I'd really just like to go back to the barracks."

"Sure, Ames," Sideswipe reluctantly agreed. "Whatever you want. We can come by later this evening after you've had some time to rest. Sunny and I stashed Galloway's projector inside one the ventilation ducts. We can drag it back out and maybe watch another movie or something."

"No, thank you," Amy declined. "I think I'm just going to stay in. There's some things I really need to catch up on."

"Oh," Sides' face fell. "Sure, uh, we understand."

Sunstreaker frowned. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"I'm fine." Amy flashed the mech a strained smile. "I just need to get out of here. That's all."

"Well," Sides offered, "We can take you-"

"No," Amy cut him off, trying to ignore the hurt look on his faceplates. "Thank you, but no. I'm just going wander over to the main hangar and wait for the shuttle. I think the short walk and fresh air will do me some good."

"Okay," Sideswipe nodded, "We can keep you company while you wait."

"I don't want any company," Amy finally admitted. "I just want to be left alone. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Ames..." Sideswipe tried to reason, "We're your friends. We care about you. We just want to make sure you're really okay."

"I'm fine." Amy shook her head. "I don't need the two of you to babysit me. I'm capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it for years and was doing just fine. I'm used to being alone."

"But you don't have to be," Sides insisted.

"It's alright," Sunstreaker interjected. "If you want to go, then go."

""Sunny?" Sideswipe glared at his brother in disbelief.

"What? She obviously doesn't want or need our company. So," Sunny shrugged, "If she wants to be alone, that's her problem. We offered. I'm not going to stand around here and argue with her about it all day." He leveled his gaze at the woman. "What are you waiting for? Get out of here. You don't think we have things to do, too?"

Amy shuffled awkwardly. She hadn't expected such a sharp dismissal. It...stung, much more than she would have thought it would. She should have been used to it by now. She almost regretted turning down the opportunity to spend the day with them. Already, she could feel the strange lonesomeness creeping in. She briefly entertained the thought of taking it all back, but her sense of pride and self-sufficiency stopped her. "Right," she nodded. She blinked, trying to dispel the tears that were trying to form and swallowed down the painful lump that had formed in her throat. "So, uh, I guess...I guess I'll see you guys around."

"Yeah, We'll see you, Squishie." Sunstreaker bid the femme farewell, watching as she turned and quickly made her way out of the med bay.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe, incredulous, stared at his brother. "We can't just let her walk out!" He tried to go after the woman." Hey, Ames! Wait, don't leave..."

Sunstreaker grabbed his brother's arm, halting him. "Let her go, Sides."

Sideswipe protested, "But, Sunny-"

"No," Sunny shook his head. "Just let her go. She's had a morning straight out of the Pit. Give her a little space and time. You heard what Ratchet said." The mech tapped his brother on the chest. "She won't wander off too far for too long. Besides, I've been thinking," the mech admitted. "Maybe it would be better for her if we let her come to us instead of us hounding her all the time."

"Yeah, maybe," the silver mech relented after a long moment. "I guess you're right. I just don't like her going off alone all upset."

"She knows where we are if she needs us," Sunstreaker insisted. "Now, come on. Let's ditch this place before Hatchet comes back. The last thing I want to do is sit through another one of that crazy fragger's rants today."

"What?" Sideswipe managed a chuckle. "You didn't enjoy his raving tirade on the dangers of interspecies coupling? Come on, Sunny! That was an instant classic!"

"Don't remind me," Sunny grumbled as he made his way to the door. "Are you coming or what?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sides confirmed, "I'm coming..."

 **End of Chapter 22**


	23. Chapter 23

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 23**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I'm always happy to 'see' you all. I hope you're having a fantabulous day. I still can't believe we're over 20 chapters deep into this story. Time flies! I really think poor Amy needs some fluff to brighten her day before I completely crush her soul. I'm really mean to her and I feel really bad about it. Imma work some in to the next chapter, I promise. I did give her a little moment in this one, though. Just to be nice. Other than that, she's having a really weird day. The chapter seems to stop short but don't fret...the next one picks right up on where Sides was going with his little train of thought. Thank you to everyone who has added this to their faves and alerts. Major props to those who reviewed the last chapter: YaoiPrincess12, sakurawriter, Stranno Roza, Flamekaat, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, KayleeChiara, MysticFire101, Pixiekatt, Annie, aelfwyne, silverleaf842, Tonythecool, JerseyPrime23. I appreciate all the comments and suggestions!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so miserable. The entire weekend had been one long, unending nightmare of discomfort and anxiety. She hadn't slept worth a damn, her dreams haunted by a now-familiar, invisible presence. The feeling in her chest swirled, expanding and contracting in time to the beating of her heart. Her head ached, a resonate pounding situated right behind her eyes that even a double dose of Extra Strength Tylenol hadn't been able to touch. To make matters worse, a deep-rooted feeling of loneliness had settled into the pit of her stomach and she was at a loss to explain where it was coming from.

No, that wasn't entirely true. She had some idea where it was coming from.

As strange as it felt to someone who literally had never had anyone but herself to worry about, she missed the twins. Just growing up, she'd been rotated through what felt like an endless stream of foster and group homes. Most of them had been horrible experiences that she'd rather not remember. She knew that once she was pulled from one that she'd be forgotten in the span of a couple days. Likewise, she'd done her best not to dwell on them, either. She'd often wondered what it would feel like to have someone that you missed when they weren't around, what it would feel like to have them miss you in return. She'd certainly never envisioned a scenario like this one.

It seems the pair had taken her request to be left alone seriously. She felt a gnawing guilt over how she'd dismissed the two of them. She'd not seen or heard from either of them since that day in the med bay. She'd been surprised and even a little disappointed when she'd finally left the barracks that morning. She'd at the very least expected to see Sideswipe in his usual spot, awaiting her with a jovial 'good morning' and a flirtatious grin. Her heart had sank a bit when she realized he was still nowhere to be found. She was going to be on her own that morning. It was at that moment that she realized just how dependent she was becoming on just the mechs' presence alone. It was a little scary, honestly, given the short time they'd actively spent time together.

Though, it was not as scary as having to face the world after making a complete fool of herself in front of an entire alien faction.

Amy took a deep breath and blowed it out slowly. She straightened her cover and squared her shoulders, standing as tall as her five-foot six-inch frame would allow. "Okay," she told herself. "You can do this."

Relying heavily on her military bearing to get her from point A to point B, Amy set off in the direction of the old bunker turned shiny, new CIC. As she crossed the base proper, greeting fellow personnel and saluting officers as she went, she couldn't help but keep an eye out for the twins and feel a little disappointed when she didn't see them anywhere. She knew it was no one's fault but her own. After all, she'd been the one to blow them off in favor of stewing alone in her own mortification all weekend.

A strange sensation washed over her as she walked. It was a prickly, almost itchy feeling that seemed to burrow down just beneath her skin. She halted in her march, a non-voluntary shudder wracking her body, and looked around herself wearily as the odd feeling of being watched crept into her consciousness. She turned around slowly in place, taking in her surroundings but not seeing anything out of place. Her fellow military members were all going about there business just like any other day and not paying her one iota of attention. She shrugged it off as an oddity. When she turned to face forward again, however, she almost had a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ!" She gasped, jumping back slightly.

"My apologies, Miss Doe." The Autobot CMO gazed down at her with a peculiar, almost puzzled expression. "I didn't mean to startle you but I saw you out and wanted to come over and ask how you were feeling."

"Oh," Amy nodded once she'd got her pounding heart back under control. She didn't believe someone so big should be able to move so quietly. It was a bit unnerving. "I-I feel much better. Thank you for asking."

"Hmm..." The medic hummed, still studying her intently. "I'm very glad to hear it. Have you noticed any tremors, heart palpitations or disturbances in your vision?"

"Uh," Amy's face twisted in confusion and concern. "No," she shook her head. "Nothing like that. Why?"

"Just following up," Ratchet assured with a small smile. "Standard procedure."

"Oh...okay. Well," Amy shuffled awkwardly as the mech continued to study her for an uncomfortably long moment. "I, uh, guess I should probably be going, then. I don't want to be late."

"Of course," Ratchet agreed. "Punctuality is important."

She had thought that the mech would go on about his way, leaving her to do the same. Instead, he casually, well, as casual as a giant robot can manage, strolled along with her. They walked in silence for a moment before Amy couldn't control her curiosity any longer. "Are you going to see Jazz?" She asked.

"No," Ratchet denied. "I've already seen him this morning. He's mending. Slowly but surely."

"Ah," Amy nodded. "That's- that's really great. So...is there something I can help you with?"

"Not at all." Ratchet stopped walking and smiled.

Amy shivered as the prickly/itchy feeling swept over her once more.

"You've done more than enough." The mech tipped his head in farewell. "Have a pleasant day."

"Yeah," Amy muttered, utterly confused, as she watched him go. "You, too."

Doe believed the day couldn't have gotten any stranger from there. She was wrong.

The office she shared with Jazz had become something of a sanctuary where she felt most comfortable and in her professional element. Usually, she was at ease, carrying out her duties with practiced efficiency. She wasn't one to brag but she was good at what she did, updating information in real time and, her new favorite pass time, utilizing Teletraan to track unusual movement through across the quadrants of the Milky Way. They certainly hadn't taught the fundamentals of mapping outer space in A School but she'd become proficient enough at it that Jazz trusted her enough to leave her to her own devices.

Today, however, the mech seemed to be hovering over her for some reason.

Amy was working on compiling the 12 o'clock report. It was something she'd done probably a hundred times before at her previous command. It was basically just a daily report detailing the status of major equipment, weapon systems, the status of any repairs being done and the time to complete them, and daily system operability test results. All departments were required to provide a detailed report in order to maintain operational and combat readiness. On board her ship, it would have been turned in to either the Commanding Officer or the Command Duty Officer. Lennox, however, insisted all reports detailing operational status be given to him directly where they would, in turn, be turned over to Prime and General Moreshower. Normally, she would have had it completed in no time flat. For some reason, though, any time she'd move, shift, or make any kind of noise, Jazz would be right there asking if she was alright and if she needed to take a break.

It was really messing with her productivity.

After reassuring the mech for probably the millionth time that she was perfectly fine, she was finally able to convince him to return to his own desk and complete some of his own work. A quick check of her watch told her she had twenty minutes left to complete her task and make her way to the main hangar for the 12 o'clock duty muster. She gave a quiet sigh of relief and dug back into the report with a vengeance. Having done it so many times before, she was able to complete it within ten minutes. She quickly printed it out and dug around in her desk for a manilla folder to put it in. Another quick glance at her watch and she was rising from her desk.

"Alright, Jazz," Amy announced as she grabbed her cover. "I'm going to go turn in the 12 o'clocks. Need anything while I'm out?"

Jazz swiveled around in his chair. "Wait up, D. I'll walk you over."

"What?" Amy looked at the mech, confused. "You don't have to do that. I told you, I'm perfectly fine."

The mech vented, "I know, scraplet. I'm just worried about you, that's all..."

"The other day was just a fluke," Amy insisted. "I'm not going to drop dead on my way to hand in our report, I promise."

A dark look passed over the TIC's face, as if he didn't quite believe what the woman was saying. He looked as if he wanted to argue, to refute her claim. Truthfully, he looked slightly guilty, as if he knew something that she didn't and was holding out on the details. First Ratchet, and now Jazz. What was going on this morning? Amy wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with everyone this morning but she was about to be late. She was saved from what she knew would probably be an argument over her being able to take care of herself by a sharp knock on the office door.

"It's open," Jazz called.

The door immediately opened to reveal Prowl waiting on the other side. He inclined his head in greeting, "Jazz, Petty Officer Doe."

"Hey, Prowler," Jazz answered.

The SIC must have picked up on the undercurrent of tension in the room. One of his brows raised minutely. "Is everything okay in here?"

"Yeah," Jazz nodded. "Just..." The mech trailed off, continuing to speak to the other mech in their strange, alien language.

Amy watched, befuddled and perplexed as the two continued to converse, each glancing in her direction every other moment, not even trying to be subtle about it. Her mouth pulled down into a frown. It was glaringly obvious that she was the topic of their conversation. Irritation bubbled up inside of her as well as a sharp pang of hurt. She felt much as she had each time her social workers had dragged her back into court after yet another failed placement. Instead of strangers debating her fate as if she weren't in the room, it was people she'd grown to view as friends and they didn't even have the decency to talk about her in a language she could understand.

"I'm just going to go," Amy announced before she said anything that she might regret later. "It was nice seeing you Prowl. I'll be back, Jazz."

With the report tucked under her arm, she marched quickly out of the office. She walked as fast as she could without breaking into an all out run. By the time she reached the end of the hallway and slammed her hand down onto the security panel to be let out, she could hear Jazz calling after her. Without so much as a backward glance, she waved as she slipped out of the door and allowed it to securely lock behind her once again. She didn't falter or slow as she continued on across the main area of the bunker to get to the elevator. She jabbed the button violently with her index finger over and over again until the doors opened. It wasn't until she'd stepped inside, the doors had closed, and was on her way back up above ground that she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

She calmed some when she emerged to see the rest of the base carrying on with business as usual. She took a brief moment to compose herself but another look at her watch had her cursing under her breath. She took off at a trot toward the main hangar where Lennox spent most of his time. She cut in between some of the smaller buildings and workshops, taking a shortcut. She rounded a corner, nearly to her destination, only to almost plow into the Autobot's CMO once again. That same prickly/itchy feeling from the morning flowed over her again, causing a tremor to wrack her frame.

"Miss Doe," Ratchet greeted. "Lovely to see you yet again."

"Yeah," Amy greeted, "You, too. I'm sorry. I hate to be rude but I really can't talk right now. I'm running late to the 12 o'clock duty muster."

"No need for apologies," Ratchet assured. "I won't keep you. Still feeling well, though, I hope. No difficulty breathing or swallowing? No loss of sensation in your extremities?"

"Uh," Amy's forehead creased in worry. "No, Ratchet. Why? All these medical questions are really starting to worry me."

"Nothing to worry about, I assure you," the CMO smiled. "I simply didn't have a chance to speak with you before you left the med bay the other day. I'll let you carry on. Have a nice afternoon."

"You, too," Amy replied. The strange feeling washed over her again before the mech turned to leave. She watched him go, muttering to himself as he went. She was really beginning to think that she was the subject of some kind of conspiracy today. Duty called, however, and so she shook it off, finally making it to her destination nearly five minutes late. She hated being late.

Lennox was in his usual spot, up in the mezzanine where a bank of computers and communication equipment were being constantly monitored. Ironhide was there, as well, leaning on the rail next to the Captain. The man and the mech seemed to be engaged in a friendly conversation. As she approached and began her climb up the stairs, their conversation came to an abrupt end. Ironhide honed in on her immediately, his mouth plates rearranging themselves into a troubled frown and his optics narrowing in puzzlement. His gaze was intense, so much so, that Amy found herself subconsciously shying away from him as she approached the Captain.

"Captain Lennox, sir," she greeted as she saluted.

"Petty Officer Doe," Lennox replied with an easy smile as he returned the salute. "Running a little late today, aren't you?"

"Yes...yes, sir." Doe replied, her face flushing in both embarrassment and irritation. "I apologize. It's been...well, it's been a strange morning to say the least. It won't happen again."

The Captain waved off the apology. "You're fine, OS2." The man chuckled, "It happens to the best of us." He accepted the folder with the report inside of it. "Anything going on I should know about?"

"No, sir." Doe shook her head, shivering slightly as she caught Ironhide still staring at her from the corner of her eye. "Everything is pretty quiet."

"Sounds about right," the Captain sighed. "It's been too quiet for my liking, lately. Even the Big Guy is getting nervous."

"So I've been hearing," Doe nodded. She caught Ironhide's eye again and swallowed nervously. "Well, I-I'll let you get back to work, Sir. I'm going to head to chow."

"Take it easy, OS2," Lennox bid the woman farewell. "Enjoy your lunch."

"Thank you, Sir." Amy saluted the man, waited for it to be returned, and then hustled back down off the mezz. She hurried out of the hangar as quickly as she'd hurried in, all too aware of Ironhide's optics tracking her every movement.

Chow, at least, was a pretty tame affair for the most part.

She'd left the hangar and headed straight for the base shuttle's stop. By the time she'd arrived on the other side of the base and was walking toward the chow hall, she'd almost been able to convince herself that she was overreacting...almost. She took her place in the line and waited patiently while those in front of her were served. When it was her turn, she opted for a slice of pepperoni pizza and some French fries. Not the healthiest of selections but she figured that after how her morning went she was entitled to indulge in some good old junk food. She consoled her healthy side by also grabbing a fruit cup and a bottled water to drink.

She found an empty table in the very back corner of the room and sat herself there. It was the perfect place to simply veg out, eat, and people watch. She hadn't really gotten out much to socialize with anyone on base...anyone human, that is. She did see a few familiar faces, though. None seemed to pay her any particular attention, however. It was fine by her. She did manage catch a glance of EW3 Monroe. The first she'd seen of him in she couldn't even remember how long. She'd politely smiled and waved when he looked in her direction. The man's eyes had widened in surprise and he'd hesitantly waved back before making a mad dash to the other side of the room. Amy simply sighed and finished the rest of her meal with her eyes focused solely on her food.

Once she'd finished eating and returned her tray to the scullery, she made a quick stop into the little Mobile Canteen shop and grabbed a couple granola bars, per her usual routine, and stuffed them into a pocket. She'd made a mental resolution that the afternoon was going to be better than the morning had been. She'd even decided that, once her day was done, that she would try to seek out the twins and try to apologize to them for the way she'd treated them in the med bay. With more confidence than she actually felt, she marched straight out of the chow hall with purpose...only to find herself at the mercy of the Autobot's Chief Medical Officer once again. The mech was leaning against the flag pole out in front of the building, doing a horrible job of being inconspicuous.

Amy eyed the mech wearily, "Ratchet?"

"Miss Doe!" Ratchet greeted, trying to sound surprised. "It seems we're bumping into one another quite a lot today."

"Yeah," she suspiciously replied. "It does, doesn't it?"

The mech casually asked, "Have a nice lunch?"

Amy shrugged, "It was alright. Pizza and French fries. Nothing to write home about."

Ratchet chuckled, "Yes, I've heard the food here leaves much to be desired."

"Depends on the time of day," Amy supplied. "Breakfast and dinner are usually pretty good."

All pretense and pleasantries pushed aside, the CMO outright asked, "Tell me, since you've ingested lunch are you experiencing any gastrointestinal disturbances? Nausea? Vomiting? Diarrhea?"

"What?" Amy's eyes widened, "No! Seriously, what is going on?"

"As I've said," the mech soothed. "I'm simply following up. I like to be thorough."

Amy opened her mouth to argue. She wanted to let the mech know that follow ups usually didn't entail stalking patients and hijacking them with medical questions at every opportunity. She didn't get an opportunity, however, since the mech raised his hand to cut off her speech before she even got started.

"Apologies, Miss Doe." The mech shot her an apologetic smile. "Prowl is informing me that I'm needed back in the med bay. There's been a...scuffle."

Without any further ado, the mech had made is way back over to the street and had gracefully compacted himself down into the form of a Search and Rescue Hummer before driving off leaving Amy standing there feeling more confused than she had been before.

"What the hell?" She asked to no one in particular.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. She was thankful that by the time she'd made it back to the bunker that Jazz and Prowl had both been absent. It gave her some peace and quiet to think things over. She didn't know what was happening with her today, why everyone seemed so preoccupied with her and treating her so oddly. She understood that some worry was, perhaps, normal. She'd fainted in Prime's office, for goodness sake. What she didn't understand was how everyone, the bots at least, were treating her as if she had some kind of horrible condition. She had that same feeling that she'd been getting off and on since her arrival on the island, that she was being excluded from something important. It was like they all knew something that she didn't and were going to great lengths not to let her in on their little secret.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the office door easing open.

"Ames?" A hesitant voice quietly asked.

Amy startled a bit, turning in her chair to see that the sliver twin had his head poked into the office. "Sideswipe," she breathily acknowledged.

"Hey," the mech shot the woman a lopsided smile. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Yes," Amy eagerly agreed, standing and going to the rail that surrounded her work space. "Please, come in."

"Thanks," Sides smiled widely as he opened the door all the way and rolled inside. He closed the door behind himself softly before moving across the room the lean on the rail next to the woman. "Look, Ames, I know you said you wanted to be left alone but-"

"No," Amy cut him off. "I'm sorry about the other day. It was a bad morning and I didn't feel well and...I just...I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Sideswipe shook his head. "I should be sorry. You may not have noticed," the mech chuckled, "But I can be a little, uh, overzealous."

"No," it was Amy's turn to shake her head. "You're fine. It's me. I can be a little antisocial sometimes."

"Well," Sideswipe bargained, "How about I work on my enthusiasm and you work on your social skills and we call it even? Deal?"

"Deal," Amy breathed in relief and smiled. Another thought struck her suddenly. "Uh...where's Sunstreaker?"

Sides vented, "He and Mirage had a little, ehm, disagreement."

"Oh, no." Amy frowned, "Nothing serious, I hope. I heard there was some kind of incident requiring the need of a medic."

"Nah," Sideswipe assured, "Just a conflict of personality. Don't get me wrong, Mirage is an alright guy but he can be a little haughty and condescending sometimes...well, most of the time. Sunstreaker, especially, takes exception to that. So," the mech continued, "Prowl put him on monitor duty till he cools down."

"Ah," Amy nodded, a bit disappointed that the yellow mech was tied up but certainly happy that he wasn't laid up in the med bay. "I'm sorry. I hope it goes by fast for him."

"Don't worry about Sunny. He'll be fine. I'll let him know that you were thinking about him, though." Sides winked at the woman. "It'll make his day."

Amy blushed but laughed just the same. "If that's all it takes to make his day he definitely needs to get out more."

"We've been out there, Ames." Sideswipe grinned flirtatiously, "Trust me, as far as we're concerned, you're the best thing this planet has going for it."

"O-oh...well," Amy blushed harder. "I-I guess I'll take your word for it..."

"So," Sides continued, changing the subject, "What's the warden have you working on today?"

Amy cocked a brow in amusement. "If you're referring to Jazz, just the same old, same old." She motioned to her computer. "He wired Teletraan into my terminal. I've just been sitting here watching the feeds. It's pretty quiet."

Sideswipe propped his chin in his hand, "Sounds boring."

"Yeah,"Amy agreed with a nod. "It is, but..." Amy trailed off. She was going to say that it was better to be holed up in here watching a computer screen than to be out there with all the weirdness but she stopped herself.

"But?" Sides pressed, nudging the woman gently, "Come on, Ames, don't leave me hanging."

Amy frowned and shook her head, "But...nothing. Never mind. It's not important."

"Are you okay?" Sides asked concernedly. "You look like you've got something heavy on your mind all of a sudden."

"No, really," Amy gave a tight smile. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"If it's nothing," Sideswipe reasoned, "You wouldn't be worrying about it. Now come on, tell me what's grinding your gears. Maybe I can help you figure it out."

Amy chewed her lip nervously, and really looked at the mech. He seemed interested and sincere. He was also the only one who hadn't been treating her like she was about to keel over and die at any moment. He was comfortable and familiar. She trusted him. She took a deep breath, "Sideswipe, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," the mech jovially agreed. "You can ask me anything."

Amy swallowed hard and looked the mech dead in the optics. "Is...is there something wrong with me?"

Sideswipe looked confused, "What do you mean, Ames?"

"I mean, you'd tell me if there was something wrong with me, right?" Amy explained, "Everyone has been really weird today. Jazz keeps asking me if I'm okay every time I move like he's afraid I'm going to drop dead on him. Prowl stopped by during his rounds and the two of them started talking in whatever language it is you guys speak but they kept looking over at me every couple seconds. I know they were discussing me. Then, I ran into Ironhide when I was dropping off the 12 o'clock report and he just stood there staring at me like I'd sprouted a second head. And," she leaned in as close as the rail would allow, whispering, "I think Ratchet might be following me."

"Oh, Ames," Sides shook his head. "I'm sorry. And they say Sunny and I lack subtlety. Just ignore them, sparklet. You're fine. Jazz and Ratchet are just worried about you after the other day in Prime's office. Prowl is Prowl. He stays up in everyone's business whether you want him there or not. Ironhide," the mech shrugged, "He's just a rude aft, in general. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Are you sure?" Amy asked, "You were there. You're sure Ratchet didn't say anything? Every time I bump into him he's asking me all kinds of weird medical questions. I'm kind of starting to worry..."

"I'm positive," Sideswipe assured with a gentle smile. "Trust me, sweet spark, there's nothing for you to be worried about." He reached out and gently grazed the side of her face with the tip of one finger and added in a soft rumble, "You're absolutely perfect."

At that moment, something came over Amy and she suddenly realized that she was close enough to the mech that she could see each and every detail of the incredibly tiny and delicate mechanisms that controlled the aperture of his softly glowing, blue optics. They were fascinating, really. The intricacy was amazingly beautiful and she didn't understand why she hadn't noticed how lovely they were before. She also found herself wondering if Sunstreaker's were the same. She wished the other mech were here, as well, so she could compare the two.

Also, seemingly for the first time, she realized how perfectly symmetrical Sideswipe's face was. It was aesthetically pleasing, to say the very least. No, if she was going to be honest with herself, he was actually quite handsome to be a mechanical being. Sunstreaker, too, was quite pleasing to the eye, if she was going to make admissions to herself. She should have been shocked by this internal revelation but for some reason it felt right in her head. She was lost in that moment and couldn't seem to snap herself out of it. Tentatively, she reached out and lightly traced her own fingers over the side of his face in return.

"Ames..." the mech whispered. His optics shuttered and he leaned slightly into her touch. He nearly purred as her other hand came up to trace the same path down the other side of his face. His optics cracked open darkened from their normal electric blue to almost cobalt. He whispered something else in his native language that Amy couldn't understand and gently took her tiny hands into his own large ones. He pulled her closer, close enough so that he could nuzzle his nasal plates gently against her much smaller nose in the best show of affection he could perform given the circumstances.

Amy took in a shuddering breath. She could feel her heart pounding hard against her ribs, surrounded by what felt like a warm, fuzzy blanket of electricity. It was by no means unpleasant. She pulled away from the mech slightly, staring at him in fascination as if just seeing him for the very first time. It was almost a surreal moment and she ran through the entire gamut of emotions before finally settling on disbelief. She wasn't sure what to make of him or his brother, of herself, of this strange 'connection' they professed to share. It was all too confusing and this new...development...only further muddled things in her mind.

Amy felt her face flush, "Sideswipe..."

"It's okay," Sides assured, his voice slightly deeper and more rough sounding. "I swear to you, it's okay. We're all going to figure this thing out, sweet spark. I promise."

Amy swallowed. Her mouth was dry but she nodded, "Okay..."

Sideswipe cleared his vocal processor, trying to break some of the tension that had built between them. "This office space, though, Ames...I have to tell you," He smiled, "Something is definitely wrong here."

Amy, grateful for the distraction turned slightly to survey her desk space. "What's wrong with my office?"

"It's so..." the mech answered. "Empty. There's nothing personal that says it's your's. Where's all the photos and nick knacks? I've walked through the Ops Center, their desks are full of pictures."

"I, uh," Amy shrugged one shoulder. "I don't have anything like that."

"Well," Sideswipe vented, feeling more steady, "I guess we'll have to take care of that too, huh?"

 **End of Chapter 23**


	24. Chapter 24

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 24**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! You're all looking lovely, as usual. I hope you're having a great day. I'm not extremely thrilled with this one but it's getting us where we need to go. That, my friends, is what's important. Thank you so much to all of you who've added this story to your alerts and favorites. To my awesome reviewers: YaoiPrincess12, HenriettaDarlington, Malkah5967, Stranno Roza, KittyKatt25, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, sakurawriter, Tonythecool, ElleGirl19, MysticFire101, TheGreenWallFlower, KayleeChiara, iGleep, Guest, Annie, adelphe24, jojoniles, Pixiekatt...you guys are phenomenal and I love you!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy was tired, which seemed to be her normal state these days. However, it hadn't been strange dreams wrecking her sleep this time, it was her own tangled mind keeping her from rest. Yesterday had played heavily on her emotions and she was still feeling off kilter. Though Sideswipe had assured her that she was perfectly fine and not to worry, his seeming caring concern had suddenly opened up a whole new Pandora's box and she wasn't sure if the thoughts and feelings that came tumbling out could be stuffed back inside again. It was like, once she'd seen him...really seen him, she couldn't unsee him and that single moment kept playing in her head over and over again.

She was at a complete loss as to what to do.

She wasn't so naive that she believed anything could ever come from these strange flights of fancy. She was hesitant to admit it but after a restless night of stewing in her own embarrassment and doubt she believed it was safe to say that she could possibly be developing the slightest bit of a crush on the twins. The fact that they were giant metal creatures from another planet seemed irrelevant. That they seemed genuinely interested in her, even if it was being dictated by some weird alien social paradigm that she didn't understand, was what really caught her attention. That certainly wasn't something she was used to and she didn't understand their fascination with her but...she was beginning to enjoy it despite herself.

Sighing, she stepped into the freight elevator and pressed the button to take it down so that she could start her work day. As the car descended, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to center herself for the long day ahead. When the elevator finally dinged and the doors rolled open she was only feeling marginally better. Still, she plastered a friendly smile on her face, as she'd learned to do so long ago to hide how she really felt, and stepped out of the elevator displaying an air of professional ease and confidence that she really wasn't feeling today.

"Good morning," She greeted as she passed by a couple contractors who were running fiber optic cables to a server room. The bunker was near completion but there were a few projects still being wrapped up. The men greeted her with a nod and a hello and she continued on her way.

She made her way on autopilot through the main security door which led to the hall where the office was. She went straight there, slapping her hand down on the console so that it could scan her palm. When the indicator flashed green and the sound of the door lock disengaging reached her ears she immediately pushed her way inside. A quick glance around the main space told her Jazz was still in the med bay with Ratchet that morning. At least, she told herself, she'd have some time alone to try to compose her thoughts before the mech came in and started grilling her about what was on her mind. She appreciated his concern but for someone not used to the almost paternal tone he'd take with her on occasion, it could be a little overwhelming.

Turning away from the mech's desk, she trudged up the stairs to her own work space. When her own desk finally came into view, she froze, mouth hanging open in shock. When enough sense finally came back to her to remember how to use her tongue she muttered, "What in the world?"

Her eyes roved over her desk and bookshelves. A sound of disbelief escaped from between her lips. Every available surface had been literally covered with picture frames. Not just picture frames, she realized...actual photos. Framed photos. Framed photos of people she didn't know and had never seen before in her entire life.

"Oh, my God." She marched over to her desk, snatching up the closest one. It was a picture of a woman beaming at the camera with what looked like a newborn baby bundled in her arms. She had a picture of someone's baby's mama...on her desk. She snatched another one up. A high school graduation pic. Another...a child's sixth birthday party, complete with cake, candles, and balloons. Everywhere she looked the faces of complete strangers stared back at her in all their glossy-finished, framed glory. "Oh, my God!"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It was early morning but already Sunstreaker was on a bit of a rampage and he was completely unapologetic for it. If there was one thing that he absolutely hated, it was having others all up in his business. That was especially true when said business involved a decidedly delicate matter. It was true that gossip traveled fast. That was especially true when said gossip was seen as the sordid variety. Autobots, unfortunately, weren't immune to the rumor mill. He'd spent most of the previous day on monitor duty for that very reason. Some mechs needed to learn to keep their mouth shut.

At least he'd gotten off easy. He'd fully expected to be sent to the brig as punishment after he'd gotten into a scuffle with Mirage over some snide comment the mech had made about what a pity it was that such a lovely human was stuck with a couple of boorish miscreants. He'd taken the swing without really thinking twice about it but the satisfying crunch he heard as his fist met the infiltrator's nasal plates had been extremely satisfying as was the startled surprise on the other mech's face. He had no regrets.

When Prowl had finally seen fit and released him in the late evening he'd headed straight back to the quarters he and Sides shared. Sideswipe was already there waiting on him, eager to fill him in on everything he'd missed while he was detained. To say he'd been pissed off, and also slightly intrigued, when his brother had relayed the conversation he'd had with Amy had been an understatement. He'd wanted to leave that very moment and handle the situation but Sideswipe had eventually been able to convince him to wait till the morning. They wouldn't be of any use at all if they wound back up in the brig again.

The others could say what they wanted about him. He didn't really give a flying frag. What he did care about, however, was his and Sides' wellbeing which was intrinsically wrapped up in the safety, security, and happiness of the small, organic femme who'd been dropped into their lives. Though his initial response to her had been disgust, he'd begrudgingly come to terms with the inevitability of the situation. The femme wasn't nearly as aggravating as he'd thought. In fact, she was kind of endearing in her own squishy, human way. Had she been Cybertronian, there wouldn't really be a doubt in his mind, if he were honest. That being said, they had an obligation, not just to each other anymore, but to her as well. It wasn't as strange as he thought it would be, looking after someone else besides Sideswipe for once. The two of them were discovering protective instincts they hadn't even known they'd had. Recharging on it had done nothing to sway him. He didn't even have to think or debate his course of action.

Her worries were their worries and Sunstreaker didn't like to worry.

He waited till his brother left on patrol and he'd already paid both Prowl and Ironhide a visit. Prowl, surprisingly, had been apologetic for his part in Amy's unease. Praxian manners, he supposed. It was slightly disappointing as he'd been hoping for a reason to pop the stoic SIC in his pompous face, as well. Ironhide had been smug, however, insisting that the predicament he and Sides were entangled in was some sort of karmic retribution for being pains in the aft all these vorns. He also hadn't been shy with his opinion on how 'unnatural' and 'revolting' he found the idea of intimate interspecies liaisons...especially with an organic. They'd very nearly come to blows and, had Optimus not been there to break things up and smooth things over, it's very possible one or both of them would have wound up in the med bay severely hurt.

Not to say he had any intention of staying away from the med bay. That was his next planned stop on his "Frag Anyone Who Mistreats My Squishie Tour".

His tires screeched as he came to a skidding stop outside of the hangar that housed the medical facilities. Humans outside scattered, making room for the mech as he transformed. By the time his last cog had snapped into place, he was already half-way across the hangar with one thing and one thing only on his processor. Without any preamble, the mech violently threw open the med bay doors, causing them to slam into walls with a loud crash. It had the desired effect, startling both Ratchet and Jazz who'd been conversing quietly inside.

"Perfect," Sunstreaker angrily snarled, "I can shoot two drones with one round."

"What is the meaning of this?" Ratchet demanded, "You'd better have a slagging good reason for bursting in here like that!"

Sunny scoffed, "And you'd better have a slagging good reason for scaring the spark out of the Squishie yesterday, Hatchet."

Ratchet sputtered, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sunstreaker."

"Oh, no?" Sunstreaker leveled the mech with an intimidating stare, "So I guess you weren't the one following her all over base yesterday asking her a bunch of ridiculous medical questions and scaring her half to death?"

"Oh, please," Ratchet vented in irritation, "I was performing my due diligence as a medical professional! This is an extremely precarious situation which, I should remind you, Miss Doe wouldn't be in if it weren't for you and your half-clocked brother! You two should be grateful that I'm even allowing this travesty to continue!"

Sunstreaker growled and his optics narrowed as his hands clenched into fists at his sides and he advanced on the medic, "Travesty?"

Ratchet's optics widened, realizing his folly. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe weren't spark bound to the human, not really, but they were all loosely tied to one another by their energy exchange. A mech in that sort of uncertain state would naturally be protective of what could potentially be a spark mate. As would any mech with a femme they felt particularly close to and cared about. It was instinct. Petty Officer Doe may have been a human but their sparks weren't recognizing that fact and referring to their relationship with the woman as a mockery was as good of a way as any to get an up close and personal look at what made Sunstreaker so lethal in the gladiator pits and out on the field.

Ratchet didn't feel like hammering dents out of his armor today.

"Sunstreaker," he quickly corrected in a more subdued tone, raising his hands in surrender. "You know as well as I do that the effect of spark energy on humans is an unknown. What I meant to say, is that I need to be able examine her as this...relationship...progresses in order to ensure she isn't being harmed. This has never happened before. We still don't know how this exposure may affect her in the long term. She may be alright now but she will need to be monitored. I was doing it for her own good. I'm sure the last thing you and Sideswipe would want is for Miss Doe to be hurt."

"I'm sure the last thing you want," Sunstreaker grit out, "Is a wrench shoved sideways up your aft port. This is your one and only warning, Hatchet. Stop following her around. You need to examine her? Fine. We're okay with that, but it happens on her terms. She isn't your fragging science experiment."

Sunstreaker," Ratchet reasoned, "I never said that she was. I'm just concerned for her health and safety. I'm sure if you just take a moment you'll understand-"

"I understand perfectly, Hatchet." Sunny stonily informed. "And if I hear of you jumping her with that medical slag again, I'll be back. The question is, do you understand?"

"Fine, fine..." Ratchet finally agreed with an exasperated sigh. It paid to pick your battles wisely.

"Good." Sunstreaker turned on Jazz then, jabbing a finger into the mech's face. "And you..." He demanded, "What is your malfunction?"

"You better watch your tone with me, Sunny." Jazz, who up until that point had been sitting quietly taking it all in, did his best to look unfazed. He crossed his arms over his chest plates. "I care about that scraplet like she was my own creation. I just want whatever's best for her."

"And Sides and I don't?" He challenged, "We're sharing fragging spark energy with her, Jazz! Or are we so glitched up now that that doesn't mean anything to anyone anymore?"

"It means somethin' when you actually care about the person you're sharin' it with." Jazz challenged right back, "Sunny, you don't even like humans."

"I like this one!" The mech blurted out, seemingly surprising even himself. He recovered quickly, though."There's not one slagging thing wrong with her. Stop treating her like there is. Sides and I are taking care of her."

Jazz vented and shook his head. "Your behavior so far has me less than convinced."

Sunstreaker snarled, "Maybe if you'd all back off and stay out of our fragging way we'd actually be able to do our job!"

"You can't expect me to just stand by and let you two just run all over her." Jazz argued, "She's human and she's fragile!"

"Believe me, Jazz, no one is more aware that she's a fleshy than I am." Sunstreaker vented in frustration. "Sides and I came here to this back water, mud ball of a planet to help slag Decepticons. I honestly couldn't have cared less about the humans but now I'm stuck sharing my slagging spark with one and you know what? She's actually kind of alright and maybe if you lubricant leaking fraggers would leave us all the Pit alone for longer than a nanoklik we might be able to work things out between the three of us."

A tense silence fell over the med bay. Neither Jazz nor Ratchet knew how to respond to Sunstreaker's rather candid admission about the situation. It was out of character for the mech who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to care about no one besides himself and his brother. That he seemed to be considering other options that didn't involve Amy meeting with a tragic end simply due to her species, was both a relief and curiosity. Ratchet almost offered to scan the mech just to make sure he wasn't glitched. A tentative knocking on the door a moment later drew the CMO's attention instead.

"Now what?" Ratchet cursed as he stomped over to the door and wrenched it back on its hinges. "This better be important."

"Hi, Ratchet. Uh, sorry..." Amy looked up at the irritated-looking mech with uncertainty, a couple picture frames tucked under her arm. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I have a slight, uh, situation. I'm trying to track down either Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. Have you seen either of them?"

Ratchet, realizing too late that the visitor at the door was none other than the woman they'd just been arguing about, immediately backtracked his misplaced hostility. "Miss Doe, I do apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you. We were in the middle of a very...heated discussion and I'm afraid I let my temper get away from me. At any rate," the mech vented, "you came to the right place. Sunstreaker is right over there. Come on in, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to assist you."

Honestly, Amy was still a bit weirded out from the day before and so she eyed the mech wearily, "Thank-thank you."

She stepped around the CMO and into the med bay. She easily spotted Jazz in his usual spot on the medical berth. She flashed him a warm smile and waved in greeting, "Morning, boss."

"Hey, D!" Jazz grinned and offered her a lazy salute in return. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. Mostly..." She added. Her eyes wandered over to where Sunstreaker still stood. The mech looked tense but seemed to relax ever so slightly. After her epiphany of sorts with Sideswipe the previous afternoon, she couldn't help but stare at him and wonder again where these strange thoughts were coming from all of a sudden. "I was actually looking for Sunstreaker..."

The corner of Sunny's mouth quirked up in a subtle smile, "Well, you found me, Squishie. What do you need?"

Amy blinked, shaking herself out of her daze. "Oh, um..." she approached the mech on slightly shaking legs to show him the photos. "Do...do you know anything about these?"

"Hmm..." the mech knelt down beside the woman to get a better look, one hand going to her back to urge her closer. He eyed the pictures for a moment before shaking his head and looking at her. "No, can't say I do. Who are these people?"

Amy sighed. She was trying really hard to ignore the slight pressure from his fingertips pressing along her spine and fact that the mech's face was only inches from her own. "I have no idea who they are but I probably have about fifty more pictures of complete strangers all over my desk and shelves. I'm pretty sure Sideswipe put them there since he came by yesterday, scoped the place out, and asked me why I didn't have any decorations."

"Yeah," Sunny snorted, "That sounds like something he would do."

"I can't give them back," Amy shook her head. "I don't even know where they came from. Everyone is going to think I'm some weirdo creep that hangs out in a bunker all day and steals pictures of their kids. Oh, God..." Amy paled, her eyes widening. "I didn't even think of that..."

"No they're not," Sunstreaker chuckled. "Give me those, Squishie." He carefully took the photos from her hands and tucked them away. "Sides is out on patrol but I'm not doing anything. I'll help you pack them all up. I'll make that bit-brain put them all back where he got them from later."

"Really?" Amy breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you."

Sunstreaker nodded in response and stood back up to his full height. He gazed down at the woman, "You go on ahead and I'll be right behind you. Wait for me outside."

"Oh..okay." Amy smiled. She turned bid Ratchet and Jazz farewell. "Have a good day, Ratchet. I'll see you later, Jazz."

"And you," Ratchet replied with a curious look on his face.

"Yeah, D." Jazz nodded. He also looked like he didn't understand the exchange that had just taken place. "Later..."

The woman waved and left the way she'd come in.

Sunstreaker stalked after her, pausing at the door and clearing his vocal processor. He immediately drew the attention of the other two mechs who looked like they'd both just witnessed some sort of inexplicable mystery. He eyed them, his expression hard and emotionless once again. "Have I made myself clear enough?"

Ratchet and Jazz both nodded in tandem.

Sunstreaker grunted, "Good. I'd hate to have to repeat myself with my fists."

As soon as the door shut behind the yellow front liner, Jazz turned to Ratchet. "Hey, doc..."

"I know what you're going to ask, Jazz." The medic shook his head. "I was here and I saw it, too. All I can say is that the spark is a strange and mysterious thing. I don't understand it, either."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"This one is kind of nice, Squishie," Sunstreaker commented. "Sure you don't want to keep it?"

"What is it?" Curious, Amy looked up from where she was finishing packing up some of the items that had been relocated to her bookshelf. Unfortunately, framed pictures had just been the tip of the iceberg in the Sideswipe's decorating frenzy. They'd also found four potted plants, a Slinky, a Newton's cradle, two Rubik's Cubes, a 'Hang In There Baby' kitten poster, a zen sand box, a ship in a bottle, and a stress ball. She actually was considering keeping the stress ball.

Sunstreaker flipped around the frame he'd been looking at so that Amy could see it, as well. "What do you think?"

Amy dropped the last photo she had into the box. She stood and dusted her hands off on her uniform pants, moving closer to get a better look. "Sunstreaker," she sighed, an amused smile making her lips twitch. "That's somebody's wedding picture. They're probably going to want that one back."

Sunny turned it back around to give it one final look before sighing and admitting defeat. "Fine," he dropped in into the box he'd been packing. "I think that's it, then."

"Gosh, I hope so." Amy spun around and planted her hands on her hips, giving the space another once over. "I still can't believe he did this."

Sunny chuckled, "I can."

"Ugh," Amy shook her head. "Why? He couldn't have possibly thought this was a good idea. I mean, seriously? Taking all the stuff from everyone else's desk? I don't understand."

"Well," Sunny shrugged. "I can kind of see where he was coming from. You have to admit, it's pretty monochromatic in here."

Amy looked at the mech with a raised brow. "Monochromatic?"

"Yes," Sunstreaker nodded. "You know...colorless, bland, drab, uninteresting. Fragging boring as the Pit."

"Well," Amy rolled her eyes, "Its a bunker, so..."

"A bunker with a whole lot of negative space." Sunny smirked, "A little color down here wouldn't kill you, you know."

"If you say so." Amy smiled, "Colorless, or no, I guess I can't complain too much. Despite this little incident, I'm having a much better morning than I did yesterday. Yesterday was...it was really weird. Weirder, I should say."

"Yeah, I heard about that..." Sunstreaker looked slightly uncomfortable. There was a long pause before he started speaking again. "Listen, Squishie, there's something that we should really sit down and talk about...the three of us. "

"I, uh, okay..." Amy's smile fell and she looked up at him, swallowing hard. The mech looked serious and that made her nervous. Just his tone of voice had set butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, a far cry from the jovial banter they'd been exchanging just a couple brief moments ago. She was curious but also wary. The look on his face told her something heavy was definitely on his mind. "About what?"

"Has anyone said anything to you?" The mech asked, "About Sides and me? About the three of us...together?"

"No," Amy shook her head, a bit confused by his line of questioning. "Nothing like that. Why?"

"Sideswipe really needs to be here with us for this." Sunstreaker cursed eloquently and drew air deep into his intakes and cycled it back out slowly. "What are you doing after you get off duty tonight?"

"N-nothing," Amy stuttered. "Why? Is-is everything okay? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," he assured. "There's something that we need to clear up about this connection we have to one another. Its a little more complicated than we may have originally led you to believe. It's better you get the truth from us before you start hearing all the gossip from the rest of these glitches."

Amy chewed her lip and quietly asked, "Complicated how?"

"Just," Sunny vented, "Complicated. By the time Jazz cuts you loose this evening Sides will be back and we can talk about it then, alright?"

"Sure," Amy agreed. She tried to sound cool and collected but already she had a nervous churning in her gut and heat buzzing in her chest like a molten swarm of bees. "That'll be fine."

"We'll meet you right outside at 1600. We know a place that's quiet and private where no one will disturb us. We can go there and sort it out." Sunstreaker could tell he'd made her uneasy and tried to reassure her, "Don't worry too much about it, Squishie. It's not the end of the world."

"Right, yeah. I'll try not to," Amy promised him. That was easier said than done. Who was she kidding? She was going to worry about it all day long until she saw him and Sideswipe again. She really should have kept that stress ball.

 **End of Chapter 24**


	25. Chapter 25

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 25**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I'm always excited to post a new chapter for you guys. I hope you're ready for the next one! I want to thank all of you who've added this to alerts and faves. I'm glad to have you tagging along with us. To my reviewers, you know I love you! MysticFire101, YaoiPrincess12, Annie, Songbird's Spirit, Stranno Roza, HenriettaDarlington, sakurawriter, KayleeChiara, Tonythecool, ElleGirl19, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, iGleep, DaLadyofSouls, Griffin fath, LapisLazuliRose, Pixiekatt**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Sunny, wait!" Sideswipe hurried after his brother. "Are you sure this is a good idea right now? I mean, I really think she's starting to warm up to us. Don't get me wrong, I want to tell her, but maybe if we give her just a little more time-"

Sunstreaker turned on his twin, "We don't have a little more time, Sides. Have you been around base lately? Would you rather she hear it from us or slagging Ironhide? Because with the way things are going, that's what's going to happen. How well do you think that would go over with her?"

"I know," Sideswipe vented. "You're right, Sunny. I just...things are more or less going well right now. I don't want to rush and frag this all up."

"She's a reasonable femme," Sunstreaker stated, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well. "She'll understand."

"Right," Sides agreed, trying to be optimistic. "You're right, Ames is sensible and intelligent. It'll be fine. We'll be fine..."

Sunstreaker had told Amy that they would meet her outside the bunker at 1600 but they were almost 30 minutes early. It was just enough time to fret and worry until she arrived. Sunstreaker had plopped his aft down onto the hood of a Humvee that someone had the misfortune of parking next to the bunker to wait for the woman. The young Army Private who returned to move the vehicle a few minutes later took one look at the brooding, glowering mech and turned right back around and left the way he'd come. Sideswipe, though, couldn't stand still. He was a ball of nervous energy and kept circling the vehicle, skating around it in anxious circles.

"So," the silver twin finally spoke again, "How do you want to play this, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker vented and shrugged, "We'll just...tell it like it is. What else can we do at this point?"

"Oh, yeah," Sideswipe laughed but it was absent of any humor. "When she comes out we'll just calmly explain to her that the three of us are practically betrothed and I'm sure she'll just jump at the very first available opportunity to hop into the berth with us, bond, and carry our sparklings. I'm sure that's every single human woman's romantic fantasy come true."

"Will you shut your fragging face?" Sunstreaker punched his brother in the arm as he skated by again. "It's called tact, you glitch! Stop acting like a slaghead. Weren't you the one who told me that this would all work out if we just sat her down and explained everything?"

"I know, I know! I'm sorry!" Sideswipe vented. Rubbing his arm, he dropped down onto the hood next to his twin. "I just didn't think it would be this hard. I know she's human, Sunny, but...I really, really like her. I want to keep her."

"Yeah, well..." Sunstreaker nodded toward the elevator. "I guess we're about to see if it's meant to be or not. That may be her on her way up."

Sideswipe looked in the direction his brother indicated and, sure enough, the elevator was making its way back to the surface. The mech drew air deep down into his intakes and cycled it back out slowly as he pushed himself up off of the vehicle. Skating closer to the elevator, he could feel his tank churn in nervous anticipation. When the doors opened, however, an easy smile came to his lip plates without him even trying. "Ames!"

Amy, a bit taken aback by the mech's sudden appearance as soon as she exited, smiled nervously. "Hey, Sideswipe."

"Squishie," Sunstreaker greeted as he ambled over.

"Hi...uh," Amy cleared her throat. "Thanks again for your help this morning. I really appreciated it."

Sunstreaker nodded, a slight smile playing at his mouth. "Don't mention it."

"Ames..." Sideswipe began. "I'm really, really sorry about that. I just thought it would be nice for you to have something besides four blank walls and Jazz to look at all day. I didn't mean to upset you or cause you any trouble or anything like that. Sunny made me take everything back to their rightful owners so..."

"No," Amy shook her head. "It's fine, You didn't upset me. It's just...for future reference, the whole point of photographs is that you care about the people in them. A desk full of strangers staring back at you is kind of, um, awkward to say the least."

"Duly noted," the mech grinned, albeit mischievously. "I'm still adapting to this whole 'human culture' thing. I'll do better next time, I promise."

"Sideswipe..." Amy warned in a voice she'd usually reserved for some of the more unruly junior enlisted sailors she'd used to supervise at her previous command.

The mech threw his hands up in a show of surrender, a, earnest laugh rumbling out of him, "Kidding! I'm kidding!"

"Mmm," Amy eyed him as if she didn't quite believe a word he said.

Sunstreaker chuckled and shook his head before bringing them back around to the subject at hand. "No one gave you any problems today, did they?"

"Nope," Amy denied. "It was actually pretty quiet today."

"Good," Sunny nodded. Then, he grew serious, "Look, Squishie...Amy," he corrected, using her proper name for probably the first time. This was serious business with serious consequences. She deserved at least that much respect given the information they intended to lay on her, "Like I was saying earlier, there's something the three of us really need to discuss. If you're ready, we can go somewhere quiet and talk about it."

"Yeah," Amy swallowed nervously. She'd almost been able to put the dreaded 'discussion' out of her head for a moment...almost. She couldn't deny that she was curious as to what was so important but her history dictated that any time anyone wanted to sit her down for a private conversation that she was about to get kicked in the gut. She honestly liked the twins, perhaps like wasn't really the right word for it but she really couldn't explain it an better and hope to make any sense. She simply hoped this wasn't another instance of someone deciding she wasn't worth their time. She nodded hesitantly, "Sure."

Sideswipe easily picked up on the woman's anxiety. Pit, he was nervous, himself. He shot her a reassuring smile, though. "It'll be fine, Ames. Come on," he offered, "You can ride with me."

Nodding in acquiescence, Amy watched as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker transformed into their car modes. Even though she'd witnessed the transformation dozens of time by now, she was still just as enthralled as she'd been the very first time she'd witnessed the phenomenon in the hangar. She didn't think the novelty would ever wear off. She didn't think she wanted it to. When the driver's side door of the silver Lamborghini popped open in welcome, she hesitantly climbed inside.

The ride was mostly silent. It seemed, at least to Amy, that she wasn't the only one who was a bit on the anxious side. She tried to occupy herself and center her mind by watching the scenery roll by. From where they were driving, they had a beautiful view of the beach and the blue, rolling waves beyond. Sides had the windows down and she's closed her eyes, feeling the fresh air on her face as the scent of ocean filled her nose. It was a safe, familiar smell and by the time they arrived at their destination, she was feeling a little more steady than she had when she'd gotten in the car.

"Alright, Ames," Sideswipe announced. "This is it."

Amy took a deep breath as he opened the door for her and climbed out. She took a moment to survey the area. They'd brought her to what looked like an old fishing wharf on the side of the island farthest from the actual military base. It had long since been abandoned, however. A rickety looking wooden pier stretched out into the ocean looking as though it could be swept away by the waves at any moment. There was also a boat house, a structure where boats could be dry docked, stored, or repaired. It, too, looked as if it had been out of use for some time but certainly looked to be in better condition than the wharf itself.

Sunstreaker was already transformed and waiting so, with more confidence than she felt, Amy started in his direction. She could hear Sideswipe transforming behind her and the the sound of his wheels crunching over the ground as he followed her. For all their encouragement and reassurance, she still felt like she was marching towards her own death.

She asked, "What's this place?"

"Someplace we come when we get tired of being caged up with everyone else and need some space," Sunstreaker answered.

"I see," Amy answered, a frown tugging down the corners of her mouth. "I sure it's hard for you guys being stuck here, especially confined to this tiny island. It must get old having our government always telling you what you can do, where you can go...who you can talk to."

"It's definitely not what we signed up for," Sunny agreed. "But, it's not as bad as it used to be. Having decent company helps. Come on," He jerked his head toward the boat house, "Let's go inside."

Amy, not knowing what else to do, followed the mech obediently.

"Ladies first," Sideswipe graciously ushered her in with a bow and sweep of his arm once his brother had lifted the overhead door.

"Thanks," she gave a tight smile and stepped into the building. It was pretty obvious to her the moment that she entered that the mechs had, in fact, been here before. Things looked as though they'd been rearranged and modified to suit their stature. She had to admire their ingenuity but couldn't lose sight of why they'd asked her here. Someone had to bite the bullet. "So," she asked, "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Maybe..." Sides looked to his brother. "Maybe we should sit down?"

Sunstreaker nodded, "Yeah, this way."

Sunny led them further back into the building. It was actually quite spacious and a shame it had drifted into disrepair. In the very back corner of the space was an area where the twins had obviously thrown together whatever they could find and had managed to jury-rig some mech-sized furniture. There was even what almost looked like a gigantic hammock that seemed to have been fashioned out of fishing net and canvas tarp. It was cozy, really, but Amy didn't have much of an opportunity to examine the engineering marvel before Sideswipe took it upon himself to help her up onto a pontoon bench they'd managed to procure from somewhere.

Sideswipe fussed over the woman for a moment, trying to make her comfortable. "Good, Ames?"

"Yeah, this is fine. Thanks." Nervously, Amy nodded and waited for the mechs to settle themselves as well.

"Amy..."

It was Sunstreaker addressing her. Her head swiveled in his direction. It felt strange having the mech call her by her name but it certainly grabbed her attention. She was quiet while he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Sunny asked, "Remember how we said we had a 'connection' to each other?"

Amy nodded, "Yes..."

"Well," he continued, "The other day when you fainted, Ratchet did a scan on you...just to make sure you were alright. He was able to confirm what Sides and I told you."

"That's why he was creeping on you, Ames." Sides interjected, "Somehow the three of us did manage to exchange some spark energy and he was concerned about what that might do to you."

"What it might do to me?" Amy's eyes widened in concern. "What? Is it like radiation or something?"

"No, nothing like that." Sunny tried to quell her concern. "He checked you over thoroughly and gave you a clean bill of health. He does think, however, that given the fact something like this has never happened before that you need to be monitored closely, just in case. Sides and I happen to agree with him."

"We just want to make sure you're okay." Sideswipe added, "We wouldn't be able to live with ourselves if we unintentionally hurt you."

"I, uh, okay." Amy nodded. She supposed that made sense. She didn't want to be hurt either, if she could help it. It actually kind of warmed her that they seemed so genuinely concerned. "So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Just, check in with Ratchet periodically and let him look you over," Sunstreaker encouraged.

Sideswipe nodded, "He can be a sarcastic pain in the aft but he's an excellent doctor. We'd feel a whole lot better if he was keeping an optic on you, sweet spark."

"Okay," Amy conceded. "I-I guess I can do that."

Sideswipe vented in relief, "Thank you, Ames..."

"Also," Sunstreaker pressed on, "We weren't exactly honest with you about the significance of the connection, itself."

Amy's brows furrowed, "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"In our culture," the mech carefully began, "The exchanging of spark energy has very significant meaning." Sunstreaker looked at the woman sincerely, "It's done as a sign of commitment and devotion between lovers who've decided to spend their lives together."

Amy felt nearly every single thought she had fly out of her head at that moment. The blood drained from her face, the single word still rattling around in her brain managed to find its way to her lips. "Lovers?"

"You have to understand, Ames," Sideswipe looked pained as he spoke. "This is all new to us, too. We've never experienced anything like this before. We didn't want to mislead you but we didn't want to scare you off either. We wanted to wait and let nature takes its course but..."

"This is a small base," Sunstreaker completed. "Once Ratchet found out, word spread fast. Optimus advised the rest of the team to keep it to themselves but mechs like to talk. We wanted you to hear it from us before one of them came along and shot off their fragging mouth."

"S-so..." Amy blinked owlishly, the look on her face stuck somewhere between disbelief and mortification. If what he was saying was true, she couldn't even imagine what everyone else must think, how it must look to them. She didn't even want to think about the logistics of such an arrangement for fear of truly breaking her brain. "E-everyone knows? They think the three of us are...?

"All those slaggers know is that we share a connection." Sunstreaker growled, "The rest is none of their fragging business."

"Can..." Amy swallowed hard. "Can we fix this?"

Sideswipe shook his head, "It isn't broken, Ames. There's nothing to fix. At least as far as we're concerned."

"But, you...you're..." She couldn't even formulate a coherent argument for the case she wanted to make. Something was definitely broken here and it was her. If they knew they certainly wouldn't sound so complacent about the whole ordeal. She buried her face in her hands.

"Look at me," Sunstreaker hooked his finger under the woman's chin, turning her head to face him. "I told you, it's not the end of the world. It's going to be fine."

"No," she insisted, "It isn't."

"Ames...sparklet," Sideswipe moved to kneel in front of her. "We're sorry we didn't tell you sooner. We understand if you're upset. If you want to yell at us, scream, throw things...feel free. Pit, you can even smack us around a little if it'll make you feel better. We can take a hit." He tried to inject some levity, "Sunny might even like it..."

Amy remained quiet for a long moment. It was a lot to take in. She wasn't so much disturbed by the fact that they'd just told her that the kind of burgeoning bond they shared with one another was of the sort shared in intimate partnerships or even the fact that there were two of them and only one of her, rather, she felt incredibly guilty. Here were two beings, arguably much older and wiser than herself, who'd traveled the stars engaged in war that had been going on since God knew when. They'd experienced things her simple human mind couldn't even dream up and what did they get for all their troubles? Now they were stuck on Earth and, apparently, stuck with her...a woman whose own parents had thrown her away like garbage, who was never good enough to keep, and who'd seemingly come along screwed up their entire lives with a simple touch. She was the last thing they needed right now and she felt lower than dirt at that moment.

"Ames," Sideswipe had gently taken her small hands into his own. "Please, say something, sweet spark."

Amy shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I...I am so, so sorry..."

"What?" Sideswipe, concerned, gave her hands a careful squeeze. "About what, sparklet?"

"Now," she sniffled, "Now I understand why Sunstreaker was so upset with me that day..."

"Ames, no..." Sideswipe shook his head, tossing a worried glance at his brother. "Sunny?"

"Hey," Sunstreaker was by the woman's side in an instant. "I wasn't upset with you. I was upset with me. You just...kind of caught me off guard, that's all."

"No," Amy wiped her eyes and shook her head. "You were right. I'm pretty much useless and I'm sure this situation isn't scoring you any brownie points with your team. I don't want you two to feel like you have some kind of obligation to me just because I happened to come along and get shocked. If this is some kind of honor code thing you guys have going on, you don't have to bother for my sake. You can let it go and go on about your lives. It won't hurt my feelings."

"You're misunderstanding, Ames," Sides stated. "There's no 'letting it go'. This...this thing we share, this is the kind of thing other people only dream of experiencing. It's incredibly special to us and so are you. This is by far the most amazing thing that's ever happened to the two of us and we don't have any intention of blowing it off. We got off to a bumpy start but, we want to give this a try, sweet spark...if you're willing to give us a chance."

"It's not about obligations. We're here because we want to be and frankly, I don't give a flying frag what anyone else has to say. They can blow it out their aft port for all I care." Sunstreaker tried to put things into a clearer perspective that the woman could understand. "The three of us, we're like...we're kind of like a family now. The rest is just details."

"Family?" The word caught Amy's attention. She blinked up at the yellow mech, curious.

"Yeah," the mech nodded. "A little unorthodox by both our species standards but," Sunny shrugged, "What family isn't a little glitched?"

"You don't even know me," Amy shook her head. "Not really. That doesn't bother either of you?"

"We want to know you, Ames." Sideswipe insisted. "We want to know everything about you but we already know the best part and that's in here." He released one of her hands to tap her on the chest with a finger. He took the hand he still held and pressed it against his own chest plates, holding it there. "We want you to know us, too."

Amy swallowed, her throat choked with emotion, "But..."

"There is no but." Sunstreaker followed is brother's example and took the hand he wasn't holding and brought it up to his own chest plates and rested it there. "We're not going anywhere. You're pretty much stuck with us now."

Amy let out a ragged breath. She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. She couldn't even begin to sort out how she felt at that moment. On one hand she still felt as if she'd somehow fouled up their lives simply by the virtue of her existence. On the other hand, she almost wanted to believe that there was some truth to their words. Not that she doubted their sincerity, she just had a difficult time reconciling those types of feelings being directed toward herself in any capacity. They felt foreign to her and she wasn't quite sure what to do with them yet. She hadn't even had time to properly analyze her own feelings recently.

What she was aware of, though, was the gentle pulse/buzz hiding behind the mechs' chest plates beneath her fingertips. It wasn't like placing your hand over someone's heart and feeling it beat. This was more...intimate. It was almost like reaching out and touching someone's soul, she thought. The subtle resonance seemed to travel through her, all the way to her own center and settle there in a warm, comforting mass as it synchronized itself with her own energy. It was as if a circuit had finally been completed and the relief it brought was nothing short of incredible.

Amy felt like she could breathe again. She didn't remember closing her eyes until she was opening them again. She looked up at the twins, certain the looks of serene wonder they wore was similar to her own. She gently pulled her hands away from them, placing them instead over her own heart. She focused on the beating beneath her palms for a moment before allowing her hands to drop back into her lap. She must have been crazy for even wanting to consider anything like this.

"Ames?"

She'd been silent for too long. She could hear the worry in Sideswipe's voice. "I'm okay," she assured in a whisper. "Just...thinking."

"What's that expression you humans have?" He cracked a nervous smile, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just," Amy took a deep breath and blew it out, "What now?"

"Whatever you want," Sunstreaker answered. "Whatever you're comfortable with. We didn't lay this all on you to pressure you into something you aren't interested in. We just wanted you to know the truth. Wherever you want to take this is alright with us. All we ask is that you don't shut us out completely."

"Give things a chance to work," Sides nearly pleaded.

Amy licked her lips, her mouth dry. "I-I think I need some time to...to absorb this."

"Of course," Sideswipe nodded, "We understand."

"Take all the time you need," Sunstreaker reached out and gently tousled her hair. "We'll be here."

 **End of Chapter 25**


	26. Chapter 26

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 26**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! It's another beautiful day and I hope you're having a great one! So, yes, the cat is finally out of the bag. What happens now? I guess we'll see . And YES, I do listen to your suggestions and I love them all! Have patience :) Thank you so much to everyone who has added this story to your follows and favorites. I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story so far. Extra special love to my wonderful reviewers: YaoiPrincess12, LaurenA007, Stranno Roza, KayleeChiara, Annie, The Rabbit Lord, adelphe24, Tonythecool, sakurawriter, iGleep, jojoniles, 0Colossal Cupcake0, Watto not, MysticFire101, ElleGirl19, Pixiekatt.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

As had become custom since arriving at Diego Garcia, sleep had once more eluded Amy. She'd actually begun to wonder if she would ever have a decent full night's rest ever again. Every night it seemed more and more unlikely. It took every ounce of gumption she had that morning to even keep up professional appearances. She'd spent all night tossing and turning in her bunk, restless and agitated, her conversation with the twins bouncing around inside of her addled brain. She wasn't exactly sure where she stood on the subject of their implied relationship. She'd felt almost manic-depressive over it at first, alternating between a high, giddy euphoria and a deep, bottomless guilt. Now, however, she mostly felt numb and uncertain of what to do with herself.

Instead of going straight to work, she'd instead decided to get up a little earlier than normal and pay Ratchet a visit in the med bay. It wasn't like she was sleeping, anyway. She may not have been quite ready to face Sideswipe and Sunstreaker but a promise was a promise and she intended to keep her's. She'd let the CMO examine, scan, or whatever he needed to do to her. She hoped it would put her mind at ease to know that, at least physically, things were okay. Perhaps, she reasoned, the good doctor may even be able to provide some impartial third-party insight into what the hell she was supposed to do now because, frankly, she was at a loss.

She'd never been a particularly paranoid person, that she would admit anyway, but armed with newfound knowledge of her personal situation she couldn't help but feel that people were staring at her as she made her way across the base. Knowing that the bots had been instructed to keep things under wraps didn't do much to make her feel any better. She kept her head down, not making eye contact with anyone unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't that she was ashamed, but the thought that her personal life...one she'd just discovered she even had...was being used as gossip fodder among aliens of all people made her uncomfortable. Making it even worse was the fact that she hadn't done anything intentional to be placed under such scrutiny. She'd simply stumbled blindly into a situation that she was only just beginning to grasp the particulars of.

She gave a sigh of relief when she finally made it to the hangar that housed the med bay. Of course, her arrival brought with it a whole other level of disconcertion. She stepped just inside the hangar doors and took a cautious look around. It was the usual suspects. A gaggle of high ranking military and government representatives were headed into Prime's office for a meeting. Prowl was off to the side, seemingly engaged in yet another 'discussion' with Advisor Galloway. Ironhide was posted up in his usual spot, habitually disassembling and reassembling his cannons. No one was paying an ounce of attention in her direction, thank goodness.

She made a break for it.

Head down, eyes focused on the floor in front of her, she moved quickly and quietly across the hangar. It wasn't a monumental distance to traverse but it may as well have been miles as far as she was concerned. She tried to cover the space as fast as she could before anyone took note of her presence. She wasn't fast enough.

"Buongiorno, bella signora."

Amy froze. Looking up she found Mirage standing before her, a curiously sympathetic look on his face. "Uh," she stammered, "Good morning, Dino."

"I am most sorry." The mech sighed, "I've heard of your troubles, bella."

Amy frowned, "My...my troubles?"

"Sì," Mirage nodded. "With the twins."

"Ah," Amy felt color flood her face. "I-I wouldn't exactly call it trouble..."

"Oh, cara..." The mech knelt and laid a compassionate hand on her shoulder. "It is an unfortunate situation, no?"

"Well," Amy stammered. "I mean, it...it isn't..."

"I understand, carina." Mirage gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I am here if you need me."

"Uh," Not knowing what else to do, she patted the mech's hand. "Th-thanks. I'm...I'm sure I'll be fine." Amy fidgeted uncomfortably. "I...appreciate the offer."

"My pleasure." Mirage vented and stood back up. He looked at her sadly once more before heading off to his daily duties.

Amy stood there for a moment, utterly weirded out by the whole exchange. As if it wasn't bad enough, the prickly sensation of being watched washed over her. Though the last thing she wanted to do was look, she turned her head to find Ironhide staring at her from across the hangar. The mech wore a look of morbid curiosity. When he noticed her gazing back, however, he snorted in derision and went back to working on his cannons.

Amy quickly hurried the rest of the way to the med bay.

Poking her head inside the room, she saw that Ratchet was still busy readying himself for the day ahead. He was humming or buzzing or something while he worked and looked content. Amy hated to interrupt him but she wasn't willing to venture back through the hangar just yet.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. "Good morning, Ratchet."

The mech stopped what he was doing and turned toward the voice. "Miss Doe," he greeted. "A good morning to you. I'm afraid I haven't seen Jazz or the twins yet this morning."

"Oh, no." Amy shook her head. "I, uh, I kind of promised Sideswipe and Sunstreaker that I'd let you take a look at me so..." She shrugged. "Here I am. If you're busy, though, I can come another time."

"Nonsense!" Ratchet waved the woman inside. "Please, come in. Close the door behind you."

Amy did as he asked and pulled the door shut before trudging over in his direction. When the mech bent to offer his hand, she hesitated a moment before reluctantly allowing him to lift her from the ground. He was gentle, though, carefully placing her atop the medical berth before stepping back and taking a careful look at her.

Ratchet surveyed the woman with a raised brow plate. "Am I correct in assuming that they've sat you down for a little talk?"

Amy nodded, "Yeah..."

Ratchet asked, "And they explained to you the significance of what's transpired?"

"They did," Amy swallowed the lump that was trying to form in her throat. "They said this type of thing only happens between people who are, um..."

Ratchet supplied, "Intimate?"

"Yes," Amy breathed a sigh of relief. "Intimate."

"Indeed," Ratchet agreed. "I'm sure this must all be difficult for you to digest. It is a very peculiar scenario to be sure. Relationships by nature are complicated. Relationships with twins even more so given their unique set of circumstances. I'm sure as a human it's a very unnerving predicament to find yourself in."

Amy chuckled, "You can say that again."

"Still," Ratchet continued, "You must have some opinion on the matter."

"I don't know." Amy shrugged, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now. I'm kind of...I don't even know..."

"I've noticed humans tend to have an aversion to things outside of what they feel is normal." He carefully asked, "You do realize this is a permanent state of being...for the twins, at least? You aren't disgusted by the idea?"

"I understand but, no," Amy vehemently denied. "I'm not disgusted. I'm very much concerned, but definitely not disgusted. I just..." She shook her head trying to put her thoughts into words. "It doesn't seem fair, you know? To them, I mean. They come halfway across the universe to help fight a war and end up stuck with me. I'm nobody. I'm completely insignificant. If I were them I'd be fighting this tooth and nail. But they're so...accepting. Like this is all just completely normal. I feel like they're being slighted. Even if I wanted to proceed with this...relationship...how is this supposed to work? How is any of this supposed to work?"

"Mmm," Ratchet nodded as he turned to search through a set of drawers. "I'm sure the twins would disagree with you greatly regarding your significance. As far as normalcy, I will say that nothing feels as right for one of our kind than being in sync with someone you care about. That said, a blind mech could see their fondness for you. I doubt they feel slighted in the least. If anything, I'd say they're probably worried about you finding them inadequate. Now where did I put that tablet?"

Amy bit her lip, mulling over the mech's words. She'd certainly had the thought a time to two since learning the truth about the relationship she and the twins shared that there was no way that she could ever live up to their expectations...whatever those may be. She'd never really considered that they may share that very same insecurity. It was definitely something to think about.

Ratchet switched to another cabinet to search there instead. He continued speaking, "You certainly have a valid worry, though. Believe it or not, our species aren't as different as you would believe. Mechs possess an apparatus similar in form and function to the male human organ. Femmes have a reciprocal receiving valve not terribly dissimilar to female anatomy. Though, it isn't terribly uncommon for a bot to possess both. Those that do typically prefer using one over the other. Reproductive interfacing is a bit more involved, otherwise, the mechanics aren't all that different to what you're used to. Our physiology does allow for some, ahem, adjustment to accommodate a partner given our diversity in terms of size. Most, however, seem to prefer a partner closer to their own stature and build. It makes for a much more comfortable and enjoyable experience for all parties involved. In this case, I'd say size and durability are paramount safety concerns. The twins, though, are nothing if not inventive and I'd bet their ingenuity carries over but don't worry, I've already warned them against getting too adventurous without clearing it with myself first..."

Amy, wide eyed, stared at the mech, a look of horrified fascination plastered on her face. How the hell did they get here? Sure, she'd assumed Cybertronians had some sort of analogue. After all, Sunstreaker had specified that the type of relationship she shared with he and his brother typically ran the gamut between "lovers". She didn't think there was any other way to interpret that meaning but she certainly hadn't been expecting a biology lesson and an explanation of robot sexuality when she'd woke up this morning. Now that the idea had been planted in her imagination, she found that she couldn't dig it back out. Her brain felt like it was turning into mush.

"Ah," Ratchet turned back and, taking in the woman's bewildered countenance, chuckled. "Apologies. I'm guessing that isn't exactly what you were referring to." He cleared his vocal processor and handed her the tablet he'd finally found, quickly changing the subject. "Here, I'd like you to fill this out. It's a standard medical history form. I've updated it to reflect the differences in our species. It will help us determine a medical baseline and then we'll go from there, alright?"

Amy nodded, thankful to have something else to focus on, and eagerly accepted the tablet from the mech. "Sure. No problem."

"I'll leave you to it, then." The CMO smiled at the woman. "Just give me a shout when you're done or if you have any questions. I'll be right over there restocking supplies."

"Okay," Amy nodded again and watched as the medic retreated back to the other side of the room to give her some privacy. Then, taking a deep breath, she focused on the task at hand and tried to push everything else out of her mind.

It was a pretty standard medical history form, really. She quickly filled in her demographic information: name, age, date of birth. Did she have any allergies? No, not that she was aware of. Did she take any medications? Just an occasional Tylenol. Thankfully, she was relatively healthy and had no problems breezing through a list of symptoms, mostly checking 'no' along the way but giving a great big 'hell, yes' to insomnia. No, she didn't smoke. No, she didn't drink. No, she didn't use drugs. Any history of surgeries or hospitalizations and their corresponding reason? She paused for a moment at that question. Just how far back did Ratchet want her to go? Biting her lip, she quickly scribbled down her answer and moved on. Family medical history? She paused again before quickly jotting 'unknown'. Sexual history? After what she'd just been subjected to she barely restrained the impulse to laugh maniacally. She bit her tongue and soldiered on through the rest of the form.

"All done," Amy announced after a few more minutes.

"Very good." Ratchet came back and collected the tablet, reading over her answers carefully. "Hmm," he looked down at her. "You were hospitalized as an infant?"

"Yes," Amy shifted uncomfortably. "For about the first six months of my life. Half of that time on a ventilator. I was extremely premature. No longterm physical problems, though. I was lucky, I guess."

"I see," He rumbled in concern but kept skimming down the page, pausing again. "You're unaware of your familial medical history?"

Amy shook her head giving the mech an uneasy look and shook her head in the negative.

"No worries," the CMO smiled at the woman hoping to put her back at ease. "We'll work with what we have. Now," he clapped his hands together, "Let's take a look at you and see if we can't figure out what's happening."

Amy blew out a lungful of air she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Yeah, okay. Sounds like a plan."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

As Amy made her way out to the med bay nearly an hour later, she felt somewhat better. Though her meeting with Ratchet had certainly had mortifying moments, it hadn't been nearly as scary as she thought it would be. Though he hadn't been able to offer any concrete explanation as to how she'd ended up in her situation, he had assured her that she was healthy and that the twins' spark energy which had decided to take up residence in her body didn't seem to be causing her any harm. At least for the time being. He wanted to see her once a week and she'd agreed. Everything had to be kept hush hush, however, since Ratchet wasn't technically supposed to be practicing medicine on human patients. As if she would tell anyone.

She took a brief look around the hangar before making a run for it. She didn't see either Mirage or Ironhide, which was a huge relief. Prime's office door was shut and she assumed he was still in a meeting. The poor mech couldn't seem to catch a break. It seemed he was always tied up in meetings. The door to Prowl's office was open and Advisor Galloway seemed to have crawled back under his rock for the time being. She'd sent a text to Jazz, letting him know where she was and he had advised her to take her time. She appreciated it but knew the mech would have questions of his own once she arrived to her station. With that thought in her mind, she strode toward the exit in preparation to get her day started.

"Petty Officer Doe."

Amy stopped in her tracks, her hopes for a quick getaway seemingly dashed. She did a smooth left face to find Prowl striding out of his office towards her, his door wings held high. It was impossible to discern what he may have wanted just by looking at him. She bet he was a great poker player. She smiled politely as he approached, "Good morning, Prowl."

"That remains to be seen," the mech vented, "May I have a word?"

Amy's heart gave a nervous knock but she nodded, "Of course."

"I won't keep you long," the SIC assured and got right down to business. "You may or may not be aware that Advisor Galloway has recently had some of his property go missing from the briefing room."

"Yeah," Amy nodded but felt a cold lump of apprehension forming in her gut. She already wasn't liking where this conversation was headed and it had just started. "He's been ranting and raving about that to just about anyone that will listen."

"Indeed," the mech's optic twitched and he shook his head. Clearing his vocal processor, he continued. "At his continuing insistence, I've been tasked with trying to locate said equipment. You may also be aware that I have a strong suspicion that the twins may be responsible given that you were present when Ironhide and I searched their quarters."

Amy swallowed hard, suddenly thankful that she wasn't one to break out in a cold sweat when she got nervous. "I did overhear something about a contraband inspection. I, uh," she gave a nervous chuckle. "I wasn't exactly in the best position to see what all was going on."

"True," Prowl agreed, "But you are close to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, yes?"

Amy did flush then. She wasn't sure what Prowl was insinuating or if he was insinuating anything at all but her mind immediately flew to the 'intimate' connection they apparently shared. She wasn't sure if she should be embarrassed or offended. She decided to play dense instead. She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure exactly what it is you're asking."

"Given the status of your relationship with the two of them," Prowl pressed, "If anyone knows what they're up to it would be you. As part of a trine, I'm sure you're made privy to their comings and goings."

A feeling of uneasy realization washed over her then. It seemed to her as if the SIC was fishing for incriminating information. "Trine?" She shook her head. "I mean, we talk sometimes but I'm not their babysitter or anything like that."

"Of course you're not," Prowl agreed. "But, they haven't mentioned anything to you about acquiring projection equipment? Perhaps you may have even seen them in possession of the items in question?" Prowl clarified, "I'm certainly not accusing you of any wrongdoing or misconduct. I've been dealing with the two of them plenty long enough to know how they operate. However, if you do know something, it would be in the best interest of all involved if you share any information that you do have. I can promise you that anything you have to say will be kept confidential and that you will not be reprimanded."

Amy frowned. Prowl was definitely trying to get her to roll on them and confirm his suspicions. What kind of a friend, companion...whatever she was supposed to be to them...did he think she was? A spark of anger flared to life in her. She hadn't a clue where it had come from but it came coupled with a strong need to protect her mechs from whatever punishment Prowl was set on doling out. That thought alone would have probably floored her if she hadn't been so ruffled. She did what she felt like she had to do at that moment. She lied her ass off for them.

"Prowl," Amy started in a regretful tone, "I'm really sorry Advisor Galloway's property is gone and that he keeps hassling you about it. I really wish I could be more helpful but," she shook her head, "I don't know anything about any projection equipment. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker haven't mentioned anything to me and the couple times that I've actually been in their quarters I haven't seen anything out of place."

Prowl studied the woman intently, "I see."

"Maybe someone else took it." She reasoned, "There's a lot of humans on this base with access to that space. Have you searched through their things?"

"No," Prowl denied. "Given the circumstances surrounding the theft, its highly unlikely a human was involved."

"Well, you might want to consider it. We can be pretty resourceful if we really want something. Just saying...but, if I do see or hear anything," Amy promised, "You'll be the first person I come to."

Prowl's door wings seemed to droop slightly. "That would be...much appreciated."

She shot the mech a sympathetic smile, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"As do I." The SIC straightened. "Thank you for your time and assistance in this matter, OS2. I'll let you get back to your duties. Have a pleasant day."

"You, too." Amy watched as the mech spun on his heel and strode back across the hangar. It wasn't until he had disappeared back into his office that she breathed a sigh of relief.

It hit her then what she'd just done. She'd outright lied to a superior. Not just any superior, she reminded herself. She'd lied to the Second in Command of an extraterrestrial faction. Why? She abhorred dishonestly...and stealing. She wouldn't hesitate for a moment to point out something she felt was wrong or unfair. She prided herself on her honestly and integrity. When her twins were involved, though...that was different a different story.

Her twins?

Amy's breath caught in her throat. When had she started thinking of them as belonging to her? Had she unconsciously staked some sort of claim on them? Was it all part of this odd connection they shared? Did it matter if it was? Feelings were feelings, weren't they? Her's were a confused mess right now but she was certain that she did care for the two of them. She missed them when they weren't around. They always seemed to be on her mind in some fashion or another. She worried about them even though they seemed to have a penchant for causing her undo stress. She looked forward to seeing them and, she admitted with a flush of embarrassment, their meetings always seemed to be accompanied by an excited fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. Everything else aside, that had to count for something, right?

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe sat on the edge of his berth, a forlorn look on his faceplates. His morning cube of energon sat forgotten next to him. He vented, "You don't think we should check on her? At least just to see if she's okay? We could call her. I got her number from Jazz. I mean, it's a major bomb we dropped on her. She probably has all kinds of questions and-"

"Sides," Sunstreaker turned to look at his twin. "Give it a rest, will you?"

Sideswipe looked offended, "Oh, like you aren't worried about her, too!"

"Of course I am!" The mech threw down the cloth he'd been using to polish his armor and stood, stabbing a finger in his brother's direction. "You keep forgetting she isn't one of us. You can't expect her to just take this for what it is like another Cybertronian would. She needs time to process. So do we, for that matter. I don't know about you, but I don't know the first thing about taking care of a human other than you have to feed them and they drool in their sleep."

"That's why we need to get together," Sides insisted. "To work out the details."

"We don't know if she's even interested in working out any details," Sunstreaker snapped.

"Sunny-" Whatever Sideswipe had been thinking of saying was cut off by a sudden frenetic rapping on their door.

"What now?" Sunstreaker muttered as he stalked to the door and wrenched it open only to find himself face-to-face with...nothing. A small sound caught his attention, however, and he looked down to find the wide-eyed woman he and his brother had just been arguing over looking up at him with something akin to awe. He felt his spark give a sudden twist. "Squishie?"

"Sunstreaker," the woman breathed. "I know it's early but can I come in?"

"Yeah," the mech nodded, immediately stepping aside. "Of course you can."

"Thank you," Amy stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the room and landing on Sideswipe with the same look of astonishment. "Hey..."

"Ames!" The silver twin was up in a flash. He took in her slightly rattled appearance, offering her a hand up onto the berth which she gratefully accepted. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." She waived off his concern, and settled herself. "I just...I wanted to let you guys know that I went to see Ratchet this morning like I said I would."

"You did?" A concerned frown tugged at Sunstreaker's mouth as he came to sit on the berth next to the pair. "What did he say?"

"He, uh," Amy's mouth suddenly went dry and heat flooded her face. She suddenly couldn't look the pair in the eye/optic. She focused on her own lap instead. "He said a lot of things...but mainly that I'm fine. He wants to see me once a week, though."

Sideswipe let out a relieved sigh, "That's a relief."

"It is," Sunstreaker agreed. "But it doesn't explain why you look wound up so tight this morning. Did something else happen?"

"Yeah," Amy hesitantly confirmed. "As I was leaving, Prowl stopped me..."

"Really?" Sunny grimaced, "What did that stick-up-the-aft want?"

Amy looked up at the mech. "I guess Galloway is still hounding him about his missing projector. He was asking me questions and saying that how since the three of us have this spark thing that I would know what you guys are up to. He wanted me to say that you two took it."

"That fragger," Sunstreaker growled, a hard expression settling over his features. "If he thinks he's going to be using you like some kind of leverage against us he's got another thing coming. Don't worry, I'll put a stop to that real fast."

Sideswipe curiously asked, "What did you tell him?"

"I lied," Amy pressed the palms of her hands to her burning cheeks and shook her head. "I looked him straight in the face and I lied to him. I've never lied to anyone like that before, not intentionally anyway. I feel awful..."

"Ames," Sides ran a gentle hand down the woman's back. "You didn't have to lie on our account..."

"Yes, I did!" Amy insisted, "The whole time he was speaking to me the only thing I could think about was keeping you two out of the brig. I wasn't going to turn you in. I couldn't. No way."

"It's our fault," Sunstreaker admitted. "We're sorry, Squishie. We shouldn't have put you in that kind of a position."

Amy took a deep breath, "Its not just the lying, or the stealing, for that matter. That...it has to stop. I don't...I can't be involved in that."

"We understand. You're an honest femme. You shouldn't have to worry about being interrogated over something you had no part in. " Sunstreaker shot his brother a hard look. "We'll do better. We'll even give Galloway's stuff back if you want us to."

Sideswipe looked disappointed but agreed, "Absolutely, if it will make you feel better."

"It would," Amy managed a smile. "Thank you. I mean it."

Sides winked at her, "Whatever you want."

"You still look like you have something heavy on your mind," Sunstreaker observed.

"Yes," Amy shakily agreed. "I guess I do. The actual reason I came here...I think I had sort of an epiphany."

Sunstreaker raised a curious brow, "About?"

Amy took a steadying breath, "I don't know if it's this spark connection thing or what but somewhere in between getting way more information than I bargained for from Ratchet and perjuring myself to keep you guys out of trouble, I realized something. I realized that I do care about the two of you...more than I even knew I did. You two were forthcoming with me so I...I figured I owed you the same courtesy. So, yeah...I just wanted you to know that."

"Ames," Sideswipe gave a sigh of relief. "That's...that's the best thing we've heard in a long time. Does...does that mean that you're willing to give this a try?"

"It means..." Amy shrugged, "I don't know what it means. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Well," Sunstreaker commented, "If it makes you feel any better, we don't know what we're doing either."

"Not a clue," Sides confirmed. "But,"he nudged her, "We're willing to learn if you are."

Sunny chimed in. "How about this? Let's just forget this whole energy exchange thing happened. We can go on like we have been just being friendly, spending time together, and getting to know one another better. From there whatever happens, we let it happen. No pressure."

Amy thought she may have been crazy for even considering something like this. Surely there were a million and one reasons this was a terrible idea and a million and one more ways that this could end horribly. The warm buzz in her chest seemed to expand and contract with each beat of her heart, encouraging her to make a decision. The truth of the matter was, regardless of whether she wanted to admit it or not, she couldn't stray too far from them even if she wanted to. She wasn't sure she wanted to. More so, she didn't think she could. Though she definitely had her doubts, there was only one course of action she knew to take.

"I," Amy licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She took a calming breath and tried again, "I...I'd like that."

 **End of Chapter 26**


	27. Chapter 27

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 27**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Sorry, I'm running super late on the update this time. I tried to make it up to you guys in length. Kind of dark at the beginning of the chapter but necessary to further our plot. A sign of things to come, maybe? Perhaps... At any rate, I'm happy to have you all along for the ride. Thank you everyone who has added this story to their faves and alerts. Extra special thanks to those who have taken time to leave a review: DaLadyofSouls, ElleGirl19, Tonythecool, MysticFire101, YaoiPrincess12, Stickaroo, KayleeChiara, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Chippr, Annie, sakurawriter, 0Colossal Cupcake0, adelphe24, Songbird's Spirit, Pixiekatt, Watto not, Delphine Pryde, HenriettaDarlington**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The mech lurched, confused and uncoordinated, operating on only the basest of systems. Who was he? Where was he? How had he come to be? Pain fired continually along immature neural synapses, further confounding an already agonizing experience. Optics flickered a sickly orange-yellow, unable to properly focus on the darkened surroundings. Fear layered over top of disorientation. Fight or flight protocols activated. His processor, glitched as it was, demanded he flee and save himself.

One shuffling step. Two shuffling steps.

Faltering, unbalanced.

Falling.

The impact with the cold, concrete floor was jarring, sending white-hot lashes of agony along his prone form. Escape...must escape. This place..it was...wrong, dangerous. Warnings flashed in front of unfocused optics. Systems were malfunctioning,, threatening to send him into stasis. It was tempting, to succumb to the darkness that pressed at the edges of his wavering vision, to let the pain carry him into oblivion, but the need for self-preservation would not allow it. Metal fingers scraped against the floor, scrabbling for purchase as he dragged himself along. Inch by excruciating inch. Not fast enough.

The sound of laughter reached his audio receptors. They glitched, causing the sound to echo ominously inside of his head. Over and over the sound looped. Louder. Faster. Over and over again until it was a continuous cacophony of noise. He swallowed a scream, gritting his denta together in a rictus grin and slammed his shaking hands down over his audios. Everything in him was screaming at him to run, to flee, to save himself. He redoubled his efforts.

A great weight suddenly descended upon his back crushing his chassis into the floor. The meager, would-be spark housed inside of his chest cavity stuttered, threatening to extinguish under the intensity of the pain that swamped his receptors. He couldn't even cry out, only writhe in anguish as the weight ground down, compressing his spinal struts and driving him into the ground. He wanted to offline but couldn't.

Why?

His processor demanded an answer as to what he had ever done to deserve this torment.

Why? Why? Why?

"What is your function?" A voice demanded, harsh and uncaring, devoid of all sympathy.

The mech opened his mouth. He couldn't process straight, not with the pain threatening to split his head wide open. He made a garbled sound, his optics closing tightly and causing cleansing fluid to leak down his faceplates. That wasn't the answer the voice was looking for. The weight pressed down harder. His spark felt as though it would burst beneath the stress placed on his frame.

The voice, losing patience, demanded again, "What is your function?"

The mech flailed, trying to gain enough traction, leverage, something...anything to get away. It was a futile action. The laughter came again, callous and unaffected by his suffering. Hoping for some kind of relief, he stuttered out in a weak, gravelly voice, "I-I s-serve..."

"Who?" The voice demanded. "Who do you serve?"

"I-I ser-r-r-ve..." His vision was darkening, becoming a dark tunnel with only a flicker of dingy light at the end of it. His spark flared painfully once, then twice, before dying back down to barely an ember. "I-I-I s-s-ser-r-rve Me-Meg-Mega...tron..."

The voice cursed as the mech's eyes suddenly went dark, it's faceplates hitting the floor with a sickening crunch as it went slack.

"Useless," the voice seethed. "Just like everything else around here."

"It must be frustrating," a new voice mused, "having everything you touch turn into a festering pile of slag."

"Barricade," Starscream growled, kicking the lifeless body at his feet. "I'm certain you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

The black and white mech snorted, pushing off the wall where he'd been observing the Decepticon SIC's efforts, and approached the other mech. He rumbled darkly, toeing the empty shell on the ground and causing it to flop limply. "So this is a sample of the great army you're creating for Megatron."

"No," Starscream spat. "This is a waste of my time and talent! Our illustrious leader demands an army." The Seeker ranted on, "He has no concept of science, no appreciation for the time and skill it would take to carry out a feat like this properly!"

Barricade hummed, "Yet the Science Division had no problems utilizing this method to produce extra bodies to work the energon mines. Perhaps you're just incompetent."

"I'd be offended if you weren't such a dim spark, Cade." Starscream sneered, "The Science Division had their program shut down by the Council for reasons you just witnessed. Those that survived the incubation process were little better than drones. I suppose that's acceptable if all you're doing is digging energon up out of the ground, but war fighting? That takes some actual processing power. Then again," he leveled a condescending look at the mech, "You've survived this long, haven't you? Now, what do you want?"

Barricade narrowed his optics, "How did you manage to spark him?"

"Aren't we curious today?" Starscream vented, "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't." Barricade shrugged. "I don't really care in all honestly. I'm not the one that's going to get the scrap stomped out of me when this mighty army fails to materialize."

The Seeker made an indignant sound. "The only one getting the scrap stomped out of them is you if you continue to speak to me in such a manner! I'm your superior! You need to learn your place!" He lashed out at the fallen mech, kicking the lifeless frame with enough force to send it sliding across the floor to collide with the smelter. He seemed to gather his composure a moment before continuing. "If you must know, however, I used this."

Barricade watched as the mech pulled something out of sub space and held it pinched between his talon-like fingers. In the dim light of the room, he had to step closer to see it properly. He squinted his optics as he considered the small, twisted, gray piece of metal. It was only about the size of what the humans called a 'baseball' and appeared burned and twisted as though it had been exposed to extreme heat before being rapidly cooled. His olfactory receptors picked up the slightest scent of ozone. He shook his head, stepping back.

Curious now, the interceptor asked, "What the frag is that?"

"A piece of Megatron's chassis." An almost-giddy gleam entered Starscream's optics. "It was a piece that was blown off in Mission City when the Witwicky boy shoved the Allspark into his chest. When the energy from the Cube combined with Megatron's spark it created a mini fission reaction. Atoms from the Cube split and recombined with some of Megatron's own spark energy. The residual contained in this piece of scrap when combined with a concentrated electrical current has allowed me to recreate the sparking process minus the presence of a willing creator."

If Barricade could have gone pale, he would have. "Megatron's spark energy..."

"It provides a modicum of stability in an otherwise unstable reaction." The SIC stated as-a-matter-of-factly. "It helps to bind the free radicals. Though there isn't much I can do about the extreme energy degradation rate with the tools I have on hand. They tend to...burn out fast."

Barricade's optics strayed to the crumpled body laying next to the smelter. "But that would make them..."

"His sparklings?" Starscream grinned maniacally. "I suppose...in a manner of speaking. I can't begin to tell you how satisfying it is to toss them in the vat and watch them melt. Rather poetic, don't you think?"

"Does he know how you're doing this?"

"Do you think he cares how it's being done?" Starscream smirked, "Come now, Cade, even you aren't that naive. In absence of a viable alternative, he'd rip the sparks out of his own creators to get what he wants. You should know that."

Barricade mulled this information over for a moment. As much as he disliked Starscream, he couldn't really argue with the Seeker. Their leader was, in all honestly, just insane enough to go along with an atrocity such as this if it furthered his goal of destroying the Autobots and putting an end to Optimus Prime. That thought brought him back to the reason he had sought out the SIC in the first place.

The interceptor cleared his vocal processor as he pulled a data pad out of sub space and passed it to the other mech. "If it matters, I may have some information regarding your...viable alternative."

"Mmm..." Starscream hummed thoughtfully as he scrolled through the data. "This may just hold some promise. You may not be as useless as I've come to believe, Barricade." A smirk twisted his mouth. "Now prove it and help me throw this one into the smelter."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. That's really the only way Amy could explain the way she'd felt over the last couple days. For the first time since she'd set foot on Diego Garcia, she felt clear-headed and in control of her faculties. She could focus and think of something other than the perpetual strangeness that seemed to have taken over her life. It was amazing to her what a huge difference the subtle shift in her life had made. Maybe it was the satisfaction of knowing she wasn't simply going crazy or the fact that, honestly, she didn't quite feel so alone as she had her entire life but, exhaustion and lack of sleep aside, she was guardedly optimistic.

Of course, it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. She hadn't really had much time with the twins since they'd come to an agreement to cautiously explore whatever it was that had developed between them. They'd snuck a few minutes together here and there but duty had to come first. There'd been no noise from the Decepticons but that only served to make the entire base tense and anxious. That said, everyone had begun doubling down on training and combat drills, including the Autobots, just in case the enemy did decide to rear their ugly heads. They were smack dab in the middle of a war, after all. Being military herself, Amy understood but it didn't mean she had to like it.

The twins had voiced similar sentiments but had still managed to find ways to exert their presence.

She wasn't sure if it was a cultural thing or what but it seemed that the pair were rather fixated on proving that they were capable of 'providing for her needs' or something like that. Over the last couple days, it wasn't unusual for her to come back to her desk to find assorted odds and ends left there for her. Little things that she had only casually mentioned in passing that she wouldn't even remember until they were sitting in front of her. New pens. A bottle of her favorite soda. Flowers...she wished she knew where they had managed to scrounge up irises on the island. No one had ever given her flowers before. She had to admit, they were beautiful. She also wasn't sure which one had noticed her fondness for chewy chocolate chip granola bars but she'd returned from dropping off the 8 o'clock report to find an entire case of them sitting on her desk.

Jazz had been at his desk, feet kicked up, working on recalibrating some of Teletraan's telemetry settings. One look at her confusion and the mech had chuckled. "I'll tell ya one thing, D," he'd quipped, "I'd never have pegged those two as bein' the old fashioned type."

Amy had mock glared at him, taking his good-natured teasing with a grain of salt. "Old fashioned?"

"Yeah," Jazz grinned. "You know, tryin' to woo their lady love with tokens of their affection." He waggled his brows suggestively. "Is it workin'? Are ya feelin' wooed?"

Amy tried to remain stern looking and failed. She burst out laughing, "You're horrible! You are so not helping this situation at all."

"Sure I am," Jazz turned in his chair to look at her and asked, "Do you have a puppy?"

"What?" Amy looked at the mech, confused. She shook her head, "Uh, no..."

"Exactly! See? I'm helping!" The TIC pushed away from his desk and carefully stood, stretching out his limbs as best he could. In a more thoughtful tone he added, "Seriously, D, all kidding aside, I've never seen those two put this much effort into anything before, not even slaggin' the Decepticons. I'm not gonna lie," he continued, "I have my concerns but I have to give credit where it's due. They're really tryin' hard. It's...surprising."

"Really?" Amy wondered, "Surprising how?"

"Just surprising." Jazz chuckled, "What can I say? I've known them a long time, D. Anyway," the mech shrugged, "I'm gonna head on over to that meeting with Prime and Prowler. They want to discuss the logistics of putting a secure storage unit down here."

Amy let his mysterious analysis of the twins slide, focusing on work instead. "Like a safe?"

Jazz clarified. "More like...a containment unit."

"That sounds ominous."

"Not so much," Jazz shot her a crooked grin. "I'll fill you in on all the details when I get back."

"Yeah," Amy nodded and smiled back at the mech, "Okay."

Jazz gave her one final wink as he headed to the door, "Call me if ya need me, scraplet."

"Will do," Amy agreed.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy sat at her desk, furiously pounding away at her keyboard as she updated tactical information according to Teletraan's latest satellite sweeps. A quick check of her watch told her that Jazz's meeting had run long. No biggie. It happened sometimes. She wasn't too worried. She had plenty work to keep her busy and that was how she liked it. She was nearly finished with her current task and just about to move on to the next item in her to-do list when the phone on her desk rang. Barely even pausing from her work, she reached for the device and pressed it to her ear.

"Combat Information Center, Petty Officer Doe speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hey, D!"

"Boss," Amy smiled, pushing herself away from her computer. "What's up? Do I need to send out a search party or what?"[

"Nah," The mech chuckled, "Just got caught up with Prowler and all his charts. Are you busy?"

"I'm almost finished updating the boards," Amy informed. "I was going to do a sector sweep and update the maps before I went to lunch."

"Do that later," the TIC insisted. "Come on up to the main hangar. There's someone here I'd like you to meet before he gets dragged off into Prowl's office for debrief or disappears into the med bay never to be seen or heard from again."

"Oh," Amy sat up straight in her chair. "Uh, sure. I'll be right up."

"Great," the mech's smile could be heard in his voice. "I'll see you in a few."

The line went dead in Amy's ear. She sat there for a moment chewing her bottom lip, wondering who Jazz could possibly want her to meet. Meeting someone new always caused a flare of anxiety in her, a byproduct of the way she grew up, she supposed. Jazz seemed pretty nonchalant about it, though, happy even, and if this mystery person was cool with him she figured she didn't have too much to be anxious about. She shrugged to herself and pushed away from her desk. Standing, she followed Jazz's earlier example and stretched, relishing the sensations as her spine snapped and popped back into alignment. Grabbing her cover, she made her way out of the bunker and headed back above ground.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The main hangar was, for all intents and purposes, empty when she arrived. Save, that is, for the military and DoD personnel that scurried about. Even Lennox was absent from his usual perch up on the catwalk. Amy's brows scrunched together in confusion. Hadn't Jazz told her the main hangar? She second guessed herself. Maybe he'd meant the hangar where the Autobots had taken up residence? Perhaps the one that housed the med bay and Prime's office? She took a quick glance at her watch and wondered whether or not she should try to book it to one of the other locales. Sure, she could have called the mech to confirm but of course in her haste she'd left her cell sitting snugly in her desk drawer.

"Good job, Amy," she sighed. "Keep it up."

"Are you Petty Officer Doe?" A carefully-coiffed head of glossy, red hair suddenly popped up over a partition that separated the hangar proper from a bank of individual computer stations that monitored radar output and communication channels. The bright red hair was followed by a pair of baby blue eyes, framed by stylish purple, cat-eye glasses. The woman's full, red lips parted slightly as she stared at Doe with something akin to awe.

Amy had started a bit at the other woman's sudden appearance. "I...I'm sorry?"

"No," the woman blinked and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Macy." The woman extended a hand over the partition. "Macy Harmon. I'm a tech analyst working for the DoD. Are you Petty Officer Doe?"

"Uh, hi." Not wanting to be rude, Amy shook the woman's hand. "Yes, I'm OS2 Doe."

"So nice to meet you." The woman, Macy, smiled widely. "I just wanted to let you know that Jazz called ahead to say that he's running a little behind but he'll be here as soon as he can. He said for you to just hang out till he got here."

"Oh," Amy gave a small sigh of relief. "Thanks, I appreciate you letting me know."

"No problem." Then, in a breathy voice the woman added, "You're so lucky. You must love your job...getting to work so closely with the aliens."

"Sure," Amy honestly answered, though she'd long stopped thinking of them as alien. They were people. Large metal people, who were a bit weird at times, but people nonetheless. "It's...very interesting to say the least."

The woman continued. "They're so...amazing. I bet Jazz is a dream to work with, isn't he? He just seems so...suave."

"Suave?" Amy shifted a bit uncomfortably at the tone she'd taken on. This woman was, well, she was beginning to sound a little strange. "He's...a really nice guy. Great boss..."

"I bet." The woman flushed and began to fan herself with her hand, "I'd polish his chrome anytime."

Amy nearly choked, "Excuse me?"

"Oh!" Macy exclaimed, completely ignoring the other woman's discomfort at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. "Have you met the scout yet?" She squealed, "Adorable! I could just eat him up. And Prime," she shivered, "That voice alone could turn me into a quivering puddle of goo..."

"Well, then," Amy gave a nervous chuckle, looking around herself for some legitimate route of escape. "I...suppose he does have a really nice voice. It suits him at any rate...Uh..."

Just then, the doors at the far end of the hangar began to roll open in their tracks. The sun was bright outside, making it difficult to distinguish anything other than the silhouettes of those entering. Fortunately, those were in the unmistakable shape of Cybertronians.

"Thank you, Jesus," Amy muttered as she racked her brain for a way to excuse herself.

"Just look at them," The woman, Macy, sighed, propping her chin up in one hand and gazing dreamily across the hanger where the bots were coming in at.

They were far enough out of the sun's glare now that Amy could easily see Prowl and Jazz were leading the pack. They were being followed by the twins who seemed to be engaged in a friendly conversation with a mech she wasn't familiar with. Her heart did a funny, little flip at seeing Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and the energy in her chest heated pleasantly. A soft smile pulled at her mouth. "Yeah," she conceded. "They're something, aren't they?"

"Did you know," the woman whispered conspiratorially, "that those two are brothers? Twins, actually."

Amy's smile morphed into a closely guarded look. "Yes," she cautiously acknowledged, "I did know that, actually."

"I mean," the woman giggled, "I know they're alien robots but, you have to admit, they're well-built." She sighed, "Those shoulders...and have you seen their backsides? I'd gladly go for a ride with either one of them...if you know what I mean."

"What?" Amy's head whipped around to glare at the woman. The warmth in her chest flared hot, uncomfortably so, and a feeling of...well...she didn't really even know what to call it...seemed to originate from the center of her being. It wasn't jealousy, not really. It wasn't so much even possessiveness. It was an almost territorial feeling that was hard for her to even pin down. She wasn't even sure where it was coming from. It certainly wasn't coming from any conscious part of her self that she was aware of. She clenched her teeth together in an attempt to hold her tongue, schooling her face into a look of professional disappointment. The woman must have noticed and realized her comments were beyond what was deemed acceptable in their current setting.

Macy paled, shrinking back behind the partition slightly. "I'm sorry," she quickly uttered. "That...that wasn't appropriate was it? I'm so sorry..."

"This is a military base, Ms. Harmon." Amy used her no-nonsense superior enlisted ranking voice on the woman. "It isn't 'Fantasy Island'. It probably isn't a good idea to go around telling people that you don't even know that the sound of an alien faction leader's voice turns you into jello. There's people wandering around in here from way up in the government food chain. If I were you I'd be careful who I let hear me talking like that."

"You're right," the woman swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Hey, D!"

Amy turned to see Jazz beckoning her from across the hangar where the bots had gathered near the catwalk. She waved back, letting him know she'd only be a moment. She turned back to the woman, calmer now, and flashed her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I have to go. It was...nice meeting you."

"Yeah," the woman nodded, looking chastised and more than a little embarrassed. "You, too."

Amy turned on her heel and took off in the direction of the mechs, thankful to escape the strange conversation. She noted that the twins and their mysterious comrade had hung back near the catwalk, still engaged in their conversation, but the pair had definitely taken note of her approach. Sunstreaker had an amused, not-quite-smile, on his face as he watched her get closer. Sideswipe, always the charmer, grinned and winked at her. The unknown mech, who seemed to be observing her with wide, curious eyes, surprised her by raising his hand in a friendly wave. Amy, not knowing what else to do, waved back at him and gave the twins a nod of acknowledgement as she came to a halt in the center of the hangar to speak with Prowl and Jazz.

"Hey," she smiled up at the SIC and TIC. "How'd the meeting go? Get everything hashed out?"

"Maybe," Jazz gazed down on the woman warmly. "You're not too attached to the rear storeroom, are you?"

"Nope," Amy shook her head. "Not at all."

"Then, yes." Jazz elbowed the mech next to him. "You heard the lady, Prowler, it's all your's."

Prowl nodded, "I'll have the engineers come down and take a look later this afternoon so we can start ordering materials for the containment unit."

"Uh," Amy raised her hand like a kid in school waiting to be called on by a teacher. "Question."

"Answer," Prowl stated, the corner of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. "Ask away."

"What are we, eh, containing exactly?"

"Ah," the mech nodded. "Yes, Jazz was telling me he hadn't had a chance to brief you yet. This all came up rather suddenly." He looked to the other mech and received a nod to continue. "How well versed are you on the history of our conflict with the Decepticons?"

"Not very," Amy answered honestly. "It's never come up in conversation."

"That's understandable. A quick lesson, then." Prowl began, "At one time, the Autobots were in possession of an artifact called the Allspark. It possessed certain...properties...that we believed could be used to heal our planet from the toll our war had taken on it. The Decepticons, however, wanted to harness those same properties in order to expand their army and grow their empire. Optimus had it jettisoned into space to prevent that from happening. It drifted and eventually ended up here on Earth."

"And so did you guys," Amy finished. "So, you found it right? That's what we're locking up downstairs?"

"Not exactly," Prowl frowned. "Your government came across it some time before Optimus and his expedition arrived. While we were eventually able to regain possession of the artifact, it ended up being destroyed during the Mission City incident."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Jazz mused. "Woulda loved to see Meg's face when it got shoved into his chest cavity but I was too busy tryin' not to permanently offline."

Prowl shot the mech a look that clearly said he wasn't amused by recalling the mech's near-death experience.

Amy shook her head. "I'm sorry. That must have been a huge blow. I mean, if you could have used it to fix your planet..."

"It was," Prowl agreed. "But Prime felt it was a necessary sacrifice and I'm inclined to agree. The alternative, for your planet to meet the same fate as ours, is unacceptable. It seems, however," he continued, "that a small piece of it was found intact. It's not nearly as powerful as once was but certainly enough so that we're concerned about it falling into the wrong hands given that Megatron is still very much alive. That, Miss Doe, is what we're containing. Question answered?"

"Yes," Amy smiled softly. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. I'm sure Jazz won't mind filling you in the details I've omitted. Oh, and before I forget," Prowl looked down on the woman, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. "I wanted to thank you, as well."

"Me?" Amy pointed at herself, confused. "What for? What did I do?"

The mech's doorwings shifted in amusement. "It appears that Advisor Galloway has located his missing property."

Amy's eyes widened in surprise. "He has?"

"Indeed," the SIC confirmed. "Strangely enough, he returned to his stateroom the evening after you and I had our brief discussion to find it sitting on his bed." His optic twitched. "Gift wrapped, bow and all."

"Gift..." Amy shook her head. "Gift wrapped?"

"Yes."

"Well..." Amy wasn't even sure what to say. She was fighting the urge to simply turn around and ask her twins how they managed such a feat but managed to control herself...if only barely. "That's...that's good news, I guess. But," she insisted, "like I told you before, it doesn't have anything to do with me."

"I'm sure it doesn't." The mech cut his optics over to where the twins were loitering before looking back down at the woman and giving her a knowing look. "Thank you, regardless. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have a meeting with Prime to get to. Have a pleasant day."

"See ya, Prowler!" Jazz looked thoughtful as he watched the other mech leave. Then to Amy, "Come on, scraplet."

Amy turned to follow as the TIC limped his way back toward the trio of mechs hanging out by the catwalk.

"Squishie," Sunstreaker greeted the woman as she drew close.

"Ames!" Sideswipe grinned widely, "Did you find the present we left you?"

"I did," Amy chuckled. "Thank you. It going to take me a while to eat all ninety-six of them."

"Well, there's plenty more where that came from," the mech assured. "Let us know when you run out."

Jazz shook his head in amusement. He nudged the woman. "Hey, D, I want you to meet Bumblebee. Bee, this is OS2 Amy Doe. I had her pulled from her previous command for the Operations billet."

Amy pulled her attention from the twins to take in the scout. She supposed Crazy-Macy was right...he was pretty adorable with his large, expressive optics which more than made up for the fact he was lacking the oral components his peers possessed. Briefly, she wondered how she had come to a place in which she could look at a giant robot and declare it cute. Then again, she also had to remind herself that she was essentially being courted by a pair of them which, she reluctantly admitted, she was beginning to consider quite handsome in their own way.

Life was surreal.

She recalled the twins mentioning that he was a 'youngling'. She hadn't asked but in her mind she had equated that with a human teenager but, what did she know? Robot teenager or no, she reminded herself that he was still many, many lifetimes older than she was. A staggering thought, that was. She tried not to dwell on it. Instead, she smiled up at him brightly, "Nice to finally meet you, Bumblebee. I've heard a lot of great things about you."

The mech's optics crinkled. If he had a proper mouth, he would have been smiling. A burst of static came from his vocalizer followed by a mashup of different voices ripped from music and television. "Always nice...to meet a...friendly...face."

"His vocal processor was damaged," Jazz explained to the confused woman. "Ratchet's been tryin' to fix it as time permits but, as you can see," the mech chuckled, "he's already found a way around the problem."

"Oh," Amy frowned. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Bee shrugged, a 'what can you do' type gesture as a recorded clip announced, "It's all good in the hood..."

Jazz continued, "He's been actin' as a guardian for the kid that helped us out when we arrived but he has some kind of school trip thing and won't be around for a couple weeks so Bee's gonna be helpin' us out around here till he gets back."

"Nice...to...be home...for...a while," the Scout played.

"I can only imagine." Sunstreaker snorted, "Like Pit I would stay in some fleshy's garage and chauffeur them around on demand."

Bee looked from the human woman to Sunny skeptically and made a soft whirring sound.

Sunstreaker growled, "That's a completely different situation and you know it."

Bumblebee merely shook his head and rolled his optics.

"Well, don't get too comfortable just yet," Jazz warned. "The Allspark shard is currently being held in a secure facility until we can send a team to pick it up. Optimus, Prowl and I have discussed it and have decided to send you three along with Ironhide to transport it back here. We don't have any reason to expect any trouble but we want to err on the side of caution."

Sides inquired, "Where is this shard being kept, exactly?"

"The United States Bullion Depository."

"Fort Knox, Kentucky," Amy supplied. "That makes sense. That place is locked down like a fortress."

Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest, looking slightly perplexed about the arrangement. "When are we leaving and how long are we going to be gone?"

Jazz nodded, understanding his foremost concern even if he didn't voice it. "As soon as we can get transportation arranged. We're shootin' for tomorrow mornin'. If everythin' goes smooth, you should be back in two or three days, four at the tops."

"Fragging great," Sunstreaker vented and looked to his brother who looked just as bothered.

"Jazz," the silver twin reasoned. "You know us, we're down for the cause but...our circumstances have kind of changed. There are other factors we need to think about before we go traipsing off to the other side of the planet."

"And we've taken all of that into consideration," Jazz assured. "Given the low risk of the mission and the fast turnaround time, we don't feel it's an unreasonable assignment. She'll be fine while you're gone. I'll see to it personally."

"Whoa," Amy's eyes widened. "I sincerely hope you guys aren't talking about me. Because if you are, I'd like to remind you that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it my entire life, long before I met any of you. Believe it or not, I've become pretty self-sufficient over the years."

"Ames," Sideswipe placated, "We don't doubt your ability to take care of yourself..."

"Good," Amy cut him off. "Then you two shouldn't have any problem going and doing your job."

Sides pouted, "Why do you have to sound so eager to get rid of us?"

Bumblebee made a chirp of amusement which earned him a hard glare from Sunny. Instead of being intimidated, it only served to tickle the mech even more. His shoulders shook in silent mirth. A warbling voice asked, "Can...we...keep her?"

Sunstreaker grunted and looked away, "That's the plan, apparently."

"Anyway," Jazz chuckled, "Imma go work on securing your ride and help Prowler round up the engineers. You've all got the rest of the day free to get yourselves squared to leave. You too, D." He winked at the woman, "Knock off for the day."

"But," Amy protested, "I haven't even updated the maps yet..."

"I'll take care of it. Trust me," the TIC insisted, "You're gonna want this time."

Amy's face scrunched in confusion. "Oh...okay. Are you sure?"

"Positive," Jazz smiled. "And Bee, Ratchet would like to take a look at you sometime this morning. I suggest just goin' and gettin' it over with. Don't want the doc bot trackin' ya down...believe me."

The scout's face fell. He made a sad, keening sound and brought one of his hands up to rub his throat nervously. After a couple seconds, he reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"Great," Jazz vented. "Now that that's all settled. Plan on mustering on the tarmac at 0600. If anything changes, I'll comm you and let you know."

The three mechs nodded in agreement and watched as Jazz slowly made his way across the hangar to his next destination.

Amy, however, chewed her lip worriedly. She'd meant what she said. She could take care of herself and certainly didn't want to be a distraction. That she'd apparently been a consideration in the planning of this particular mission sparked to life an ember of anxiety within her. She didn't want to hold the twins back from doing their jobs or be a hindrance to the campaign. Despite this, she reluctantly admitted to herself that the idea of them leaving her, even it was only for a few days, made her feel slightly off kilter.

"Well," Sideswipe clapped his hands together. "You all heard the mech. Let's get out of here." He turned to head back out the way they'd come in. "Come on, Ames."

Amy asked, "Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" Sunstreaker shooed the woman along. "We don't have the time to be wasting it." Over his shoulder he called to the other mech, "You coming, Bee?"

The mech scrunched up his face and shook his head, a kissy sound coming from his speakers, as he threw his hands up in a 'no-thank-you' gesture that had the small femme's face burning scarlet in embarrassment. He pointed to his neck, "Going...to go...see...if...the doctor is in."

"Suit yourself," Sunny shrugged. "We'll see you in the morning then."

Bumblebee nodded and waved at Amy, "Hope to...talk...to you again...soon."

"Yeah," Amy answered once she'd found her voice. She smiled softly at the mech and waved back, "Me, too."

The scout gave a happy chirrup before folding himself up into the form of a shiny, yellow Camaro. As he drove out of the hangar, he honked his horn in farewell.

"Aww," Amy commented offhandedly, "He seems really sweet."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sideswipe rolled his optics. "We know, we know...everyone loves Bumblebee. He's cute and cuddly and all that slag."

She couldn't help but laugh at the mech.

"Now can we please go?" Sunny vented in impatience, "We'd like to actually get to spend some time with you before we have to leave in the morning."

"Fine," Amy snickered. "Lead the way."

As she followed her mechs from the hangar and chanced a glance back over her shoulder. The odd woman from before was in her chair, leaning around the partition, and watching their exchange with an almost envious look. The strange, quasi-territorial feeling from before bloomed in Amy's chest once again but this time it was accompanied by a small flicker of almost smug satisfaction. This would have concerned her had she not been so intent on getting out of there and actually having some quality time, albeit brief, with the twins. She'd take what she could get and try not to think about the morning.

 **End of Chapter 26**


	28. Chapter 28

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 28**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I thought we were due for some romance-y stuff, especially since the twins will be leaving on business for a few days. Fluff. Physical affection. No smut, but may get them to thinking. I don't write a lot of risqué stuff so I hope it meets your high expectations. If human/non-human displays of affection turn you off, you can probably safely skip this chapter and wait for the next one to post. Thank you so much to everyone who has added this story to your follows and favorites. I'm so happy to have you here! Extra special thanks to my reviewers for keeping me motivated! Annie, TerrorTwinEpicness, adelphe24, , YaoiPrincess12, ElleGirl19, sakurawriter, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Tonythecool, Pixiekatt, rileyraph'sgirl**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The previous day had been somewhat bittersweet. After several days of barely getting to see the pair face-to-face, it had been a treat for Amy to be able to spend some uninterrupted time with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The happiness was somewhat tempered by the fact that they would be leaving her in less than twenty four hours time. The twins had been racking their brains/processors trying to find a way they could occupy that small amount of time before their departure. It had taken some convincing but Amy had finally managed to get through to them that they didn't need to keep her entertained every single moment they were together. She was happy just to be able to see them before they left.

This revelation seemed to both surprise and please the pair for some reason.

After tying up some loose ends and Amy grabbing some lunch, they'd eventually ended up back in the twins' room where they'd be free of prying eyes and wild speculation. Conversation flowed easily between them as it always seemed to. The twins had done their best to sate Amy's curiosity about the Allspark and why a small sliver of it was so important. What she'd drawn from the conversation was that they weren't even sure what the Allspark really was, where it had come from, who had created it, or why. What they did know was that it contained restorative properties that could have theoretically been used to save their dying planet. More disturbingly, it also had the ability to breathe unnatural, new life into mechanical beings. That is why they fought for it, to prevent Megatron and his Decepticons from using it to create untold legions of new soldiers with which to expand their conflict and wreak havoc on the galaxy. It was sobering to think about, at the very least.

Not wanting to let their time together end on a down note, they'd moved on to lighter subjects. Given that Amy had seemed to have taken an instant liking to Bumblebee, the twins had decided to regale her with some amusing stories and anecdotes, mostly at the poor scout's expense, which only served to make him even more endearing in the woman's mind. Amy, in turn, contributed by deciding to share the awkwardly strange conversation she'd had with the computer tech as she was waiting in the hangar for Jazz to show up.

Sunstreaker seemed to know exactly who she was talking about and looked mildly disgusted. "The one with red hair and glasses?"

"That's the one," Amy chuckled.

His faceplates scrunched up. "Stay away from her, Squishie. She's fragging weird...even for a fleshy. It's my understanding that she got banished to the main hangar so Lennox could keep an eye on her."

"Yeah," Sides laughed. "It was before we arrived but we heard that she got in trouble for, uh, inappropriately touching Mirage."

"What?" Amy's eyes widened comically. "No! You're kidding! Seriously?"

Sunny smirked, "Probably the most action that miswired trinket has seen in vorns."

Sideswipe grinned. "You don't believe us, ask Jazz. He's the one that warned us away from her when we got here. Apparently, she's some kind of raging mechanophile and doesn't know how to take 'no' for answer."

Amy raised a brow, "What in the world is a mechanophile?"

Sides winked, "You, if Sunny and I play our cards right."

"The point is," Sunstreaker gave his brother a pointed look, "She's fragging glitched, Squishie. Steer clear of her. We don't need you picking up any bad habits."

"Although," Sides added in a teasing tone. "She does have good taste. If you haven't already noticed, I do have a really nice aft..."

Amy rolled her eyes.

The rest of the evening followed a similar amiable pattern as they did there best not to focus on the fact that they'd be separated come dawn. As 0530 finally rolled around they were still trying to squeeze in all the time together that they could, foregoing sleep and recharge in favor of each other. The lack of rest wasn't really a big change for Amy who barely got any quality sleep as it was between her strange dreams and inexplicable restlessness. The twins were more important than her nearly nonexistent sleep, at least in her tired mind.

She hadn't been sure what Jazz had meant about 'wanting this time' when he'd dismissed her from duty early the previous day but as the clock ticked closer and closer to the time of their departure, she was definitely starting to get the gist of it. As she sat cross legged atop Sideswipe's berth, watching while the brothers gathered last minute odds and ends they would need for the trip, she already felt the throb of loneliness forming itself behind her breast bone at the thought of them not being around for a few days. At some point, she wasn't sure when, she'd become reliant on their presence. She was going to miss them, she realized with a start. Terribly so.

"We'll call you when we get there," Sideswipe promised as he packed away a couple data pads to take along for the trip. "We'll check in when we can throughout the day and call you every evening before you go to bed to say goodnight."

"If you need us for any reason, you call us. Understand?" Sunstreaker added, "Our contact information is programmed into your phone. It doesn't matter what time it is."

"Okay," Amy chuckled in amusement. "I promise, but I don't know how much help you'd be almost ten thousand miles away. If something catastrophic did happen, I'd be shriveled up and dead by the time you got back here."

Sunstreaker glared at the woman, "That's not even remotely funny, Squishie."

"Seriously," Sides shook his head. "Don't even joke like that, Ames. We're having a hard enough time with this as it is. You're not helping."

"Sorry," Amy apologized. She had a bad habit of trying to make light of things when she found herself in a situation beyond her control. It was a coping mechanism, one of many she'd developed over the course of her life. "You guys know it's only for three or four days, right?"

"Yes," Sunny grit. "You know we share spark energy, right?"

"Believe me, I am very aware," Amy nodded. "So?"

"So," Sides answered, "This isn't going to be very pleasant for any of us, and until we can see you again with our own optics and know you're safe and sound, we're going to worry about you. That's just how it is. It can't be helped. It's all a part of the package."

Amy sighed. This whole energy swap thing seemed to be getting more and more complicated as time went on. It was nearly enough to make her head spin. She wasn't feeling too keen on this whole separation, either. "So, feeling like I want to break down and bawl my eyes out is normal?"

Sunny confirmed, "Afraid so, Squishie, and we haven't even left yet."

"Well," Amy mulled that over for a moment. "This is really going to suck, isn't it?"

Sunstreaker smirked, "Just now figuring that out, are you?"

"But," Sideswipe reminded, "Like you said, it's only for three or four days. We'll be back before you know it."

"Right," Amy agreed but didn't sound terribly convinced. She glanced at her watch and frowned. "You're absolutely right. It'll be a piece of cake."

She said the words but, honestly, she didn't know what she was going to do with herself. She'd never been emotionally attached to anyone before. There were times that she'd actually doubted that she was capable of that kind of closeness with anyone. She'd actually gone through a phase when she was younger where she'd had a legitimate fear of ending up like one of those ignored, dysfunctional children who were raised in overcrowded orphanages overseas and never developed the ability to relate to other people. She now knew that certainly wasn't the case. She surprised herself by how deeply she'd come to care for the twins in a short amount of time. She didn't know if she could call it love, but it was definitely significant, more so than in any relationship she'd had previous. Which, of course, wasn't saying much given her relative lack of experience in such matters.

"Hey, Ames?"

"Hmm?" She blinked, dispelling the wayward thoughts from her mind, instead focusing her attention on Sideswipe. "Sorry," she smiled. "I kind of zoned out there for a second. What did you say?"

"I was just thinking is all..." the mech suddenly looked a little anxious. "Since we're going to be gone for a few days and we won't get to see each other, I was wondering..."

Amy raised a brow in curiosity as the mech trailed off. "You were wondering what?"

"It's just..." He glanced over toward his brother who had stopped what he was doing to watch what was happening, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "I mean, I know we agreed to see how this whole thing would work out but we haven't really talked about how it was going to actually work. You're not, you know, curious?"

"Uh," Amy's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I'm following."

Sideswipe asked, "You trust us, right?"

"Yes," Amy agreed with a nod of her head. "Of course I trust you. Why?"

"Do you mind if I..." Sides asked, "If I try something that I've kind of been thinking a lot about lately?"

Amy gave him a strange look. "Something like...?"

He shot another furtive glance in Sunny's direction, getting an almost imperceptible nod in return. He smiled softly at the woman, "Just trust me, ok? It's nothing bad, I promise. I'd just like to give you a proper goodbye before we have to head out, that's all."

She felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach as the mech drew nearer where she sat atop his berth but nodded in agreement anyway. "Oh...s-sure...yeah, okay. I mean, if you want to."

Sideswipe gazed down at her in quiet appreciation for a moment. Even in her elevated position, he still towered over her much more petite form. What she lacked in size, though, she made up for in spirit. He reached out, gently skimming his fingers over the side of her face. She was soft and smooth, and pliant...things he would have never thought he'd find even remotely attractive or appealing until he met her. Then again, there were quite a few things he and Sunny had never thought too much about until they met her. Like how before they never would have thought twice about heading out on a mission, dangerous or not, if asked. Now that they had someone waiting for them at home, though, that was a whole different story. They hadn't known it would be so hard.

They were here now, though, and they still had a little time before they had to be on the tarmac. He was going to make it count and, hopefully, give their femme something to think about a bit while they were gone.

"Stand up for me, sweet spark," he rumbled.

"Okay," Amy barely whispered in response. Her heart pounded and the warmth in her chest bloomed in a strange sort of anticipation as she moved to comply with the mech's request. When she finally stood on shaking knees, she looked to him for further instruction on what it was she was supposed to be doing.

"That's better," he smiled softly. "I can work with this."

"What-"

"Shh..." Sideswipe pressed the tip of his index finger against her lips, silencing her. He gave her an imploring look. "Be very still, alright?"

Amy nodded.

"Alright," he murmured. His fingers moved beneath her jaw, angling her face towards his as he bent his head towards her. He felt her nervous breath upon his faceplates as he lightly rested his forehead against her's. He nuzzled her gently, brushing his nasal plates against her nose in a comforting gesture before tilting his head slightly to bring her soft, full, human lips to press against his more rigid mouth. A sound, somewhere between a surprised moan and a gasp, managed to slip from his vocalizer at the contact and it took every ounce of willpower he had to remain stock still and contain his impulse to kiss her with everything he had so as not to hurt/frighten her.

Amy inhaled sharply when Sideswipe's mouth touched her own. She felt as if a mild electric current was running all throughout her entire body. All of her nerve endings felt like they were firing off at the same time in some sort of euphoric celebration. It should have been an extremely awkward and cumbersome arrangement. It wasn't...at least not significantly enough to matter. If the pounding of her heart and the near jubilant sensation wrapped around it was anything to go by, it felt amazing. She made a soft noise, her eyes fluttering shut, as she lifted her hands to press her fingers to the mech's faceplates.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Sideswipe shifted his stance slightly, allowing him to press the woman closer by curving one hand around her shoulders. He brushed his mouth against her's, enjoying the softness and gaining a new appreciation for the malleability and adaptability of the human body. He soaked up the sounds she made, tiny noises of surprise but also of wonder and enjoyment. Mindful of their significant difference in size, he carefully nipped at her full lower lip, drawing a surprised gasp from her. Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, the very tip of his glossa slipped from his mouth and laved soothingly over the same spot, this time earning himself an appreciative moan. As her lips parted ever so slightly, he prodded her gently, he was under no delusion that he'd be able to kiss her properly given their respective sizes despite how badly he wished it were possible, but he still wanted to taste her more than anything at that very moment.

Amy could count on a couple fingers the number of people she'd kissed in her lifetime and they certainly hadn't made her feel like this. She felt as though she were drowning in sensation. When his tongue, or whatever he possessed in place of one, urged her to open her mouth wider, she only hesitated for a moment. Curiously, she let her tongue slip out and tentatively touch his. He tasted of metal, but not overwhelmingly so. It was a peculiar tang on the tip of her tongue that was complimented by the slightly sweet taste of what she assumed was some kind of lubricant that kept all of his oral components all working smoothly. For a brief second she feared that she may be ingesting antifreeze or something similar, but the worry of being poisoned fled her mind instantly as he slid his glossa sensually against her tongue in a way that would have made her knees buckle if he hadn't been holding her up.

God, but he was good at this.

"Ames...," he moaned against her mouth as his cooling system inevitably kicked on. Reluctantly, before things could progress any further, he pulled back from the woman only to press his forehead against her's once again, his optics closed tight as he tried to regain his equilibrium. "That was really...not what I was expecting."

"Me neither..." Amy confessed in a voice just above a whisper.

He lifted his head just enough to look her in the eye and asked hesitantly, "It...wasn't too weird for you, was it?"

Amy blinked up at the mech with her mind still reeling and her chest still heaving as she tried to catch her breath. He'd kissed her. She'd kissed him back. More importantly, she'd enjoyed every second of it. She shook her head and answered honestly, "No. It-it wasn't weird at all."

"Thank, Primus," he breathed as he leaned back into her. "Because I'd really like to do it again. If...if that's okay..."

A short nod and a breathless, "Yes..."

He was more comfortable this time, more at ease. He wasn't quite as cautious but kept her fragility in comparison to his own rigidity in the back of his processor as he claimed her mouth once more. He had a better understanding now of what made her moan and tremble and he wasted no time in applying that newfound knowledge in a way that soon had her panting for breath and gasping his name. Now that he knew what it was like to touch her like this, he realized that it could quickly become an addictive new pass time.

As he kissed her, he had half a processor to comm Prime, or Prowl, or Jazz, or whoever the bit brain was that had come up with the bright idea of sending the two of them to the other side of the planet after a ridiculous piece of space junk and tell them to go jump in a smelter. This was where he wanted to be and it was, at least in his thought process, infinitely more important than a shard of the ruined Allspark.

As he contemplated the repercussions of carrying out such an action, Sideswipe felt his brother's hand descend upon his shoulder and squeeze. Sunstreaker, up until this point, had been more than patient in allowing him to guide this situation. He knew he was being selfish, greedy even, and judging from the feelings bleeding through their bond, it was easy for him to deduce that his brother had had quite enough of just standing back and watching the show. Sunny was nothing if not a mech of action.

"Sunny needs you, too, sweet spark..." Sideswipe murmured the words against her lips as he reluctantly pulled away and released her.

Before she could formulate an articulate response, she found herself pressed into a broad, yellow chest. Insistent fingers glided down her back, perhaps lingering a moment too long on her ass, before traveling back up to tangle in her hair which had slipped free from its confines sometime over the course of the previous night. A tug, gentle yet demanding, had her craning her neck back to look up into Sunstreaker's smoldering optics. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Okay?" He asked the question, a single word, in a rough voice as he studied her intensely.

She swallowed hard, the movement seeming to catch the mech's attention. She nodded, a difficult feat in her position, "Yes...It's okay..."

Sunstreaker growled, his grip tightening in the femme's hair slightly, forcing her to have to crane her head back even farther and fully exposing the column of her throat. He hesitated only a moment before bending to nip at her chin and then focused his attention on her neck. He could feel her pulse pounding against his mouth plates as he pressed openmouthed kisses along the line of her jaw, down the side of her neck, to the junction of her shoulder, tugging the annoying clothing that she wore aside to accommodate his passage as he went.

Amy whimpered at the feel of the mech's glossa gliding along the edge of her collar bone, leaving a damp trail behind. Sunstreaker wasn't nearly as easy or gentle with her as Sideswipe had been but he still had her quivering under his touch. He was certainly the more commanding of the two and seemed to know exactly what it was he wanted and how to get it...even at the expense of her uniform which she was sure he'd stretched well beyond its capacity to do so in order to bare her shoulder for his exploration. She could feel by the tenseness in his frame, though, that he was holding himself carefully in check so as not to hurt her.

"Primus," he murmured in a ragged voice as he worked his way back up the way he came to finally press his mouth plates against her lips and kiss her. He'd somehow managed to slip two of his fingers up the back of her shirt, beneath her undershirt, which had come untucked from her pants somehow. He flexed them, stretching the fabric taught as he tried to touch more of her skin. "You're so soft everywhere..."

She shivered, her back arching against the cool metal of his digits as they skimmed along the dip of her spine. Her breath rushed from her in a shaky gasp of his name, "Sunstreaker..."

The mech responded by burying what he could of his face in the crook of her neck and softly muttering something in his native language that she couldn't even begin to understand or comprehend.

"He said you're beautiful."

Amy turned her head to find Sideswipe watching with bright optics.

An affectionate smile tugged at Sides' mouth and he reached out to caress her face with the backs of his fingers. "He's right, you know."

A sudden pounding on the door seemed to make time freeze inside the room for an agonizing moment.

Sunstreaker raised his head and cursed eloquently, gathering the femme to his chest protectively. He barked, "What the frag do you want?"

The voice of the Second in Command filtered through the thick, metal door. "You two have ten minutes to be on the tarmac. The plane is refueling first and then they'll be ready to depart. Make sure you have all of your gear together." A brief pause and the mech added, "Miss Doe, you're more than welcome to accompany them and see them off if you'd like."

"Oh, my God..." Amy tried to hide her face in Sunny's chest plates as a wave of embarrassment crashed over her.

Sideswipe chuckled, stroked Amy's cheek once again, and called back, "Don't get your tailpipe twisted, Prowl. We'll be there."

Sunstreaker rumbled in amusement and ran his fingers through the woman's hair in a pacifying gesture. As the sound of the SIC's footsteps faded off down the hall, he looked down at her with a raised brow. "Well, Squishie," he smirked, "Are you going to see us off or what?"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It was immediately apparent to Amy why the twins wanted to say their goodbyes in the safety and privacy of their quarters. She was sure their particular form of farewell wouldn't have been well received by the current audience. Aside from the bots themselves, the tarmac was crawling with military brass and lower ranking personnel running to and fro getting things ready to move as well as various government representatives, including Advisor Galloway who had once again cornered Prowl regarding some trivial matter or another.

Apparently, there were a lot of diplomatic and military concerns that needed to be addressed any time the Autobots traveled outside of what was considered an 'approved area'. Amy hadn't realized that relocating the bots, even for such a short amount of time was such a huge deal. It angered her that they seemed to be treated more like a strategic commodity than real, actual people. She bit her tongue, though. There was a time and a place for everything but this wasn't it.

She had moved off to the side off to the side in an attempt at being inconspicuous, the twins had followed closely. She was wondering whether or not coming here with them had been a good idea. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them off, she most certainly did. It was just that she knew she looked a hot mess and hadn't had any time to properly square herself away before Sideswipe had scooped her up and they'd been on their way. She'd straightened her uniform as best she could and tried to coil her hair back up into a bun on the ride over but without a brush and proper mirror it was a questionable effort, at best. Sunstreaker had actually managed to pop the top two buttons off of her uniform shirt, something she hadn't even noticed in the heat of the moment, and the collar of her undershirt hung loosely around her neck where it had been stretched far beyond its capacity to snap back into shape. Everyone that passed by seem to take notice of her rough looks, as well. She figured the only reason no one said anything was due to the death glare Sunstreaker gave anyone that wandered too close.

The twins didn't seem to mind that she was little unkempt at the moment. In fact, if she didn't know better, she'd say the were actually a bit smug about it. It was like some invisible barrier had been torn down between them. Whereas before they'd kept a respectful distance, at least for the most part, they stood closer to her now, brushing against her subtly as they moved about. To an outsider these seemingly accidental touches would seem trivial and unintentional. For Amy, who's lips still tingled and who's stomach still fluttered at the memory of what they'd shared in their berthing only minutes ago, these touches carried more than a little significance. It excited but also frightened her to an extent and she wondered how this would change the dynamics of their relationship. She'd have days to mull it over and worry until they returned, she reminded herself.

A happy chirp pulled the woman from her worried musings as the newly arrived scout quite literally danced over to where the three of them were waiting. Lyrics from a song she recognized from the musical 'Singin' In The Rain' were blasting from his speakers. Amy couldn't help but laugh and instantly felt a bit better.

Bumblebee waved, "Good Morning! Good Morning! We've talked the whole night through! Good Morning! Good Morning to you!"

"Bee's a morning person," Sideswipe explained with an amused grin.

"I can tell," Amy smiled and waved back. "Good morning."

"It's too early for that slag," Sunny rolled his optics at the younger mech. "Squelch it, Bee."

Bee made a disappointed sound but did as he was asked.

Amy chuckled, "Looks like you're excited to get the show on the road."

Bumblebee nodded emphatically and bounced on his toes. Spongebob's voice played on a loop over and over, "I'm ready! I'm ready! I'm ready!"

"Primus," Sunstreaker muttered as he ran a hand down his face plates. "It's going to be a long trip."

Amy snorted in amusement.

Bumblebee pointed at Amy, then to the plane, and back to Amy again.

"Uh..." Amy looked to the other two mechs for help.

"He wants to know if you're coming with us," Sunny clarified. "No, Bee. She's staying here. She's got her own job to do while we're gone."

Bee looked surprised. He pressed a hand over his chest plates then gestured toward the trio and shrugged.

"Yeah," Sideswipe vented. "That's what we said, too, but we're not in charge as they like to keep reminding us."

"I'm sorry..." A woman's voice crooned as Bee made what could only be described as 'puppy dog eyes' at Amy. "So sorry...please accept...my apology..."

"It's fine, Bumblebee." Amy giggled, "I'm sure I'll manage to survive somehow."

Bee nodded and gently patted the woman on the head.

"Alright, you lubricant leaking cogsuckers," Ironhide bellowed as he stomped across the tarmac, "Muster up!"

Sunstreaker grunted, "Alright, let's get this slag over with." He shot Amy an appreciative look, "Don't run off, Squishie."

"Yeah," Sides agreed. "Wait here, Ames. We'll be back."

"Sure, no problem. I'm not going anywhere." She waved to Bumblebee and watched from the sidelines as the three made their way over to be briefed by the weapon specialist.

Ironhide laid into them immediately, "The first rule of this mission is that you do what I say, when I say, and how I say it. I'm not gonna be your fraggin' spark sitter..."

"Jesus," Amy chuckled. She'd heard that Ironhide was a hard ass, a soldier from way back, even before the war. Watching him bark out orders, she could certainly believe it. She'd served under Master Chiefs who'd spent their entire lives shipboard who were less salty than he seemed to be. It made her all the more thankful that she'd been paired with Jazz.

"OS2!"

Amy started at the sound of her title. She looked over her shoulder to see the Chief Master Sergeant making a beeline for her.

"Hey," Epps greeted the woman as he strolled up beside her. "I didn't expect to see you out here."

"Good morning," she greeted with a smile. "Yeah, uh, I just wanted to say goodbye to the twins before they left."

"The twins, huh?" Epps gave her a curious look. "I didn't know you guys were friendly. Hell," he laughed, "I didn't think Sunstreaker liked humans, period."

Amy couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Honestly? I don't think he does very much. He says we're too greasy and leaky."

"That sounds about right," Epps grinned. "At any rate, I guess it's good that they're socializing with someone besides each other for a change. Get them out of their little 'twin bubble', as Ratchet calls it."

"Yeah," Amy sighed. "I guess so. Are...you going, too?"

"Me?" Epps shook his head. "Nah, no need. They're just going there grabbing the shard and coming straight back. In and out. What's the status on containment?"

"Uh," Amy felt herself blush. "I, uh, I'm not actually sure. I haven't talked to Jazz since yesterday around lunch time. He cut me loose early. He was going to make arrangements for this trip and then he and Prowl were going to speak with the engineers." She quickly added, "I'm heading right there after I leave here to get caught up."

"No worries," Epps reassured. "I'm sure they've got it handled. Hey, uh," he gave the woman a strange look. "Are you alright? What happened to your neck?"

"My neck?" Amy's eyes widened and she rubbed a hand over the area Sunstreaker had seemed so interested in earlier. "N-nothing, why?"

"You've got some, uh, some marks there." Epps reached out and poked the side of Amy's neck with his pointer finger. "And there. They're red. Does that hurt?"

"N-no," Amy denied. She cut a glance over to where Sunstreaker was to find the mech smirking back at her with a satisfied look on on his faceplates. A sudden thought struck her, "He did that on purpose..."

"Who did what on purpose?"

"Nothing!" Amy backpedaled, "No one! I, uh, it's probably an allergy or something. I changed laundry detergent..."

"Ah," Epps nodded. "Well, you might want to get that checked out if it doesn't go away."

"Yeah," Amy nodded. "I'll do that. Thanks."

"No problem." Epps observed Captain Lennox hustling toward the tarmac along with Prime. "I gotta go, there's Will. It was good seeing you."

"You, too." Amy bid the man farewell and watched as he disappeared into the crowd of bodies around the plane.

"What did he want?"

Amy turned to find the twins were done with their briefing and had returned. She shook her head and answered Sideswipe's question, "Nothing, just saying hi." She pointed to her neck, leveling her gaze on the yellow front liner. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing," Sunny smirked, "Just gave you a little something to remember us by while we're gone."

Amy pressed a hand to her forehead. "I can't walk around here looking like...like a..." She sighed. They were getting ready to leave and she didn't want to argue. "You know what? Just...never mind. Be honest, how does it look? Is it bad?"

Sunny raised a brow plate. "Honestly? It looks like you belong to a couple mechs who have trouble keeping their hands and their mouths to themselves."

"In other words," Sides answered with a lopsided grin. "You look great."

"I, uh, well then." Amy stuttered, "Th-thanks. I-I think..."

"I hate to do this, Squishie." Sunstreaker vented. "They want us to go ahead and load up." He gave her an unreadable look. "Do us a favor and stick close to Jazz while we're gone, alright? He may not be in the best shape right now but he cares a lot about you. He'll make sure you're taken care of till we get back."

"I've told you," Amy protested, "I can take care of myself."

"We know, Ames," Sideswipe soothed. "Just humor us...please."

"Okay," Amy relented. "Fine. I will. I promise."

"Thank you," the mech smiled.

"Let's go!" Ironhide yelled from somewhere behind them. "Get your afts in gear and get on the slaggin' plane!"

"We have to go," Sunstreaker rumbled. He opened his mouth to say more but seemed to think better of it. He shook his head and instead informed her that, "We'll call you when we get there."

"Be safe. I'll be here when you guys get back."

"We'll make this up to you, Ames," Sides assured. "We promise."

"I know you will." Amy watched with a heavy heart as the pair gave her one last lingering look before turning to jog off in the direction of the cargo plane. As they disappeared inside, she felt a strong tugging sensation in her chest. Frowning, she pressed her palm to her sternum to try to relieve the discomfort. She knew then that it was going to be a long few days without them.

"They'll be back soon."

Amy turned her head to find the SIC standing there with his hands clasped behind his back and his doorwings held high. She hadn't even heard him approach but found that she was thankful for his reassuring presence just the same. She sighed, "I know."

The pair stood in silence for a moment, watching the plane as it took off and grew smaller and smaller before it finally disappeared altogether into the sky.

It was Prowl who finally spoke first. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Me?" Amy nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I'm always fine."

"Mmm..." The mech looked down at the woman and hummed in quiet contemplation. Then, "Miss Doe, may I be so bold as to make a suggestion?"

"Sure," she agreed. "I'm always open to suggestions."

"You may want to swing by your room and tidy yourself up a bit before you report for duty. You look a bit," Prowl cleared his vocal processor, "Tousled."

Amy felt her face heat as she remembered how she'd gotten in such a state. "Yes," she croaked, her voice choked with embarrassment. "That's probably a good idea. I'll do that."

The SIC gave a satisfied nod. "I'm free for the next hour," he informed. "I'd be happy to escort you over to the barracks and then drop you at the bunker."

"That's okay," Amy declined. "I can take the shuttle. Don't put yourself out on my account,"

"Nonsense. I insist." The mech transformed down into the shape of a Dodge Charger police car and popped the driver's side door open. "Please, get in. It's the least I can do."

Amy thought it over a moment, then conceded, "Thank you, Prowl. I really appreciate it."

"No," he corrected. "Thank you."

 **End of Chapter 28**


	29. Chapter 29

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 29**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Thank you so much for all your support, faves, and follows! A little fluffiness to start out this chapter. Why? Because we're worth it. Do we really need a reason? I'm not so sure how these few days are going to go for Amy since there's really no precedent so I think she needs a little TLC to kick things off. I'm sure she'd appreciate all the prayers and positive thoughts you can muster. Thank you to all of my awesome reviewers who shared their opinions on the last chapter: Stickaroo, LaurenA007, YaoiPrincess12, ElleGirl19, jojoniles, HenriettaDarlington, Inkaholic4U, 'Guests', JessieBWriting, rileyraph'sgirl, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, The Whispering Sage, DaLadyofSouls, F-22Raptor16, adelphe24, sakurawriter, t0neverland7, Tonythecool, Sweet Sprinks, Annie, Pixiekatt, BarricadesDemon216. I'm always so nervous when I post romance-y/steamy stuff. You guys are great for my anxiety and I'm thrilled that you enjoyed it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy sighed and rolled over in her bed to lay on her back and stare blankly up at the ceiling. It was nearing two in the morning. She was tired, exhausted really, but restlessness and a profound feeling of loneliness kept her from being able to get comfortable. Not that sleep would have helped. Every time she began to doze she'd find herself in that strange, black abyss and she'd jerk herself awake again. To top it off, she'd developed a headache, a steady throb right between her eyes that a double dose of Tylenol hadn't been able to allay. That, coupled with the lonesome ache in her chest, pretty much guaranteed that she wouldn't be getting any sleep. It wasn't all bad, she reminded herself. At least she hadn't broken down and started crying yet, which she had believed was a real possibility as the day had progressed.

Absently, one of her hands wandered up to press against the side of her neck. Despite being under the covers, she shivered as she recalled those last few moments she'd had alone with the twins just before they left. Looking back on it now, it was almost surreal. If it weren't for the marks on her neck, she would almost be inclined to believe it had all been some kind of a wild dream or strange fantasy. She couldn't call the marks hickeys, not really. They weren't really bruises either. It almost looked as if the skin had pinched just hard enough to leave behind a dappling of red spots from just beneath her jaw line to the edge of her collar bone. They didn't hurt at all. It certainly hadn't hurt when Sunstreaker had been making them. She'd quite enjoyed it, actually, she admitted to herself with a blush. They were, however, very noticeable against the paleness that surrounded them and were sure to take days to fade completely. Amy suspected that had been the entire point.

She normally didn't really wear makeup, save for the occasional chapstick, but after Prowl had returned her to the barracks she'd managed to scrounge up some concealer she'd purchased for the sole purpose of hiding a blemish she'd had when it came time to take her photo for her new military ID after her last promotion. She'd been infinitely glad she hadn't tossed it out after it had served its purpose. She was able to camouflage the worst of Sunstreaker's 'gift', enough so that she was fairly certain she wouldn't draw any unwanted attention and maintain some air of professionalism. If Jazz had noticed, which she suspected he had as very little escaped the mech's astute observation skills, he'd at least been gentlemanly enough not to mention it. Even if no one else could see them, she still knew they were there. That thought had caused a shiver to work its way down her spine and she wondered at how she'd managed to get to this point.

She was a straight shooter. She wasn't a risk taker or prone to impulsiveness. She tried to think things through logically and methodically. It's how she'd survived the life she'd been dealt and it's what made her so good at her job. Logically, she knew that it shouldn't have worked between the three of them. There were two of them and only one of her...not something she'd ever been remotely interested in even in her wildest fantasies. It certainly wasn't something she'd ever dreamed she'd be an active, willing participant in. The fact that they were giant robotic creatures from another planet...real, live aliens...that was something that she couldn't rationalize or explain away so she didn't even try. She was coloring so far out of the lines that she didn't even know what the picture was supposed to look like anymore.

It should have felt awkward and uncomfortable, not to mention unnatural...but it hadn't. She'd actually surprised herself at how willing she'd been to reciprocate once they'd initiated the contact. She wasn't bold or forward by any stretch, in fact just the opposite when it came to this sort of thing, but somewhere along the line she'd come to view the pair as safe and safe was something that she'd rarely if ever felt over the course of her life until just recently. Somewhere down deep she knew they wouldn't hurt her and that she didn't have to be afraid when she was with them. A nervous wreck? Embarrassed and blushing? Maybe...probably, but she didn't have to fear them. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to just close her eyes and lose herself in the experience.

If she concentrated hard enough, she could still conjure the feeling of Sideswipe's mouth brushing softly and tenderly against her own and the silky slide of Sunstreaker's glossa over the sensitive skin of her throat. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. She was in trouble, she knew. Deep, deep trouble. She felt like she'd opened a Pandora's Box and she wasn't sure if it was possible to close it back up again. More importantly, she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to. It was that realization that caused her the most worry. As patient and understanding as the twins seemed to be, she was at a huge disadvantage when it came to information. She didn't know how any of this worked. She had no clue what was expected of her or what she could possibly be expected to do for them in return. All she could do was stumble along and hope for the best.

The dark room was suddenly illuminated as the screen of her phone lit up from where it rested on her nightstand. As it vibrated, Amy felt her heart skip a beat. She fumbled for the cell, turning it over in her hands to look at the caller ID. She couldn't help the relieved smile that tugged at her mouth as she hit the talk button and pressed the device to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweet spark!" Sideswipe's voice filled the darkness. "Sorry it's so late. We were going to leave you a voicemail. What are you still doing up? We didn't wake you, did we?"

Amy's smile widened at his concern. God, she missed them already. "No, you didn't wake me. I'm in bed but I can't sleep."

Sunstreaker's voice rumbled over the connection, "Everything ok?"

"Oh, yeah," Amy assured. "Everything's fine. I just...I just haven't really been able to sleep much since I've been here, that's all. This is pretty normal for me."

Sunny snorted, "Could've had us fooled, Squishie."

"Seriously, Ames," Sideswipe chuckled, "The couple times you bunked with us you were practically comatose. We probably could have picked you up and used you as a ball to play catch with and you wouldn't have noticed."

Amy mulled that bit of info over for a moment and realized with a start that what he said was true. The most peaceful, restful sleep she'd gotten since coming to the island...maybe in her entire life...had been with the two of them. She wasn't sure if that was significant or not, had anything to do with the energy they'd swapped, or if she should be truly concerned. "I-I guess I must have been really tired those times."

"Yeah, maybe..." Sides sounded less than convinced.

"Does Ratchet know you're not sleeping?" Sunstreaker asked with an edge of concern to his voice.

"Uh, no," Amy admitted. "It's been going on so long now, I didn't think it was important. I mean, he gave me a medical questionnaire to fill out and I wrote it down but we didn't discuss it in any detail. There were other things he was more worried about at the time. The doctor over at medical knows, though. He said it was stress and the change of scenery."

"Still, better safe than sorry, sparklet," Sides advised. "Next time you bump into Hatchet, make sure mention it to him. He might be able to help."

"Okay," Amy sighed in agreement. She'd promised them she'd see Ratchet anyway. There was no harm in telling him again. "I will."

"We need you to be well rested," the mech added in a flirtatious tone. "If he can't fix it, you know you're always welcome to sleep with us. We're happy to tuck you in."

Amy felt herself blush. "That's, uh, generous of you to offer."

"We're very generous mechs," Sideswipe practically purred. "We aim to please."

"I'm...I'm sure you do..." Amy squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. "So, uh...where are you guys? I know you can't be in Kentucky this soon. I wasn't expecting a call until sometime in the morning at the earliest."

Sunny chuckled, "We had a stopover. They had to drop off cargo or some slag. We're currently sitting in an aircraft hangar at RAF Lakenheath in Suffolk, England. They won't let us go outside because of security concerns or something like that so we're going to be stuck in here all night listening to Ironhide complain while he cleans his fragging cannons for the billionth time."

"Nice." Amy laughed, "That sounds like a blast."

Sunstreaker vented, "You have no idea, Squishie. I'm dying of boredom in here. We're supposed to be on the first flight out at 0530 which can't come soon enough."

Amy bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the mech's petulant tone, "I'm so sorry..."

Sunstreaker vented heavily, "You and me both."

"Before I forget," Sides lightheartedly interjected. "Bumblebee says hi."

"Oh," Amy smiled. "Well, tell him hi from me."

Sideswipe chuckled, "Will do. He'll be ecstatic. Youngling has been driving us crazy asking questions."

Amy frowned, "About what?"

"You, mostly," the silver mech informed. "How this whole relationship came to be."

"Oh..." Hesitantly, she asked, "What...what did you tell him?"

"That matters of the spark are a very delicate and complicated construct that he couldn't possibly understand without experiencing it for himself," Sideswipe answered dramatically. "Or something like that."

Sunstreaker snorted, "I just told him to frag off and mind his own business."

Amy, at ease once more, laughed softly, "Well, alright then. Fair enough."

"Listen, Squishie," Sunstreaker's voice softened, "As bad as I hate to say it, it's really late and we don't want to keep you up too long. You really should try to get some rest."

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed in a more subdued tone. "We really just wanted to call and let you know that we were thinking about you and that we missed you."

Amy felt the first prickling of tears come to her eyes. She'd managed to hold them back all day and it really made no sense to get so choked up over such a simple declaration. Amy, however, had never heard those words spoken in reference to herself before. She'd come into this world disposable, unwanted, and forgettable. She was sure they had no idea the impact such a simple sentence would have on her. She was almost glad they weren't there to see the tears that tracked down the sides of her face to soak into her pillow. What a mess she was. They really had no idea.

"Ames?" Sides questioned concernedly. "Are you still there, sweet spark?"

"Yeah," she sniffed and tried to control the tremor in her voice. "I'm still here. I-I miss you guys, too."

"How about this," Sunny offered in a quiet rumble, "you try to get some sleep and we'll leave this line open. We'll be right here with you. How does that sound?"

"That...that sounds really nice." Amy whispered gratefully, "Thank you."

"Get comfortable and close your eyes," the yellow front liner advised.

Amy pulled the phone away from her ear and put it on speaker. Instead of returning it to her nightstand, she rolled onto her side and placed it on her pillow next to her head. It may have only been a few inches difference but it made her feel closer to them. She pulled her blanket up under her chin and snuggled down as best she could into the rather firm, military issued mattress. "Okay," she tiredly muttered.

"Sleep well," Sunny murmured. "We're right here if you need us."

Sideswipe vented softly, "Goodnight, sparklet."

"Goodnight..." Amy sleepily sighed and closed her eyes.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

All too soon, Amy found herself suddenly startled awake by the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear. She groped toward her nightstand and felt around for her phone, belatedly realizing it had become wedged under her pillow at some point during the night when the alarm started screeching once again. Once she'd managed to fish it out from beneath her head and silence it, she realized that she'd actually slept pretty well. She'd fallen asleep the to the soft, intermittent sounds of the mechs' ventilations and the occasional quietly whispered word. There had been no strange dreams or restless tossing and turning. Just knowing they were there, even long distance, had been enough to lull her into a peaceful slumber.

A quick look at her call log made her heart squeeze in affection for the pair. They'd done exactly as Sunstreaker had promised. They'd stayed on the phone with her all night up until about ten minutes ago. She hated that she missed them before they disconnected. It would have been wonderful to hear their voices before she had to get up and start her day. They'd sent her a text, though, letting her know that they were preparing to leave England and were going to be bound for the US. They'd promised to call her once they arrived at their destination and reminded her again that they missed her. Amy took a deep breath and settled back against her pillow for a moment and hugged the phone to her chest.

She was in so much trouble.

She lay there for another minute or two before finally managing to convince herself to move. With a sigh, she threw her covers off and sat up. Her headache, which had eased as she slept came rushing back with a vengeance. The pounding right between her eyes was slightly disorienting and perfectly in sync with the aching throb in her chest. Gritting her teeth against the pain she fished a bottle of Tylenol out of her nightstand and shook four of the pills out into her palm. She tossed them into her mouth, swallowing them dry, before rising and starting to get ready to start her day.

Breakfast had been a pretty solemn affair. She'd walked into the mess hall, not really hungry but also not willing to go without eating something. When the scent of cooking food his her nose, however, whatever appetite she did have fled suddenly as a wave of nausea washed over her. Her stomach clenched and her mouth was flooded by saliva which she did her best to swallow down without gagging. She chalked the feeling up to the sickening headache that was pounding away behind her eyes. Still thinking optimistically that some food in her belly might help, she grabbed a bland bowl full of plain oatmeal and a glass of apple juice. It took every ounce of concentration she had to get them both down but she finally managed.

By the time she'd reached the bunker, her queasiness has been replaced by a feeling of mild vertigo and she was beginning to worry that she might be coming down with something. Once in high school, she'd developed a sinus infection which had spread to include an inner ear infection which had resulted in similar symptoms to what she was currently having. It had been an absolutely miserable week that she hoped she wouldn't have to live through again. The way she was feeling, though, she wouldn't at all be surprised. She made a mental note to swing by the small store on base to browse their pharmaceutical section. If she could just find something a little stronger than Tylenol to get rid of her headache, maybe a decongestant, she'd be a happy camper.

She'd made her way to her office in a bit of a daze. She palmed the door open expecting to have at least an hour to herself to recuperate before Jazz arrived. However, she was greeted by the sight of the First Lieutenant kicked back in his chair with the SIC perched casually on the corner of his desk. She blinked, trying to establish a bit of equilibrium before greeting the pair.

"Morning, boss," she chimed in her most upbeat tone. "You're early today. Hi, Prowl."

"Miss Doe," Prowl greeted her with a nod of his head. "Lovely to see you, as always."

"Hey, D." Jazz smiled at the woman. "Technically, I'm late everyday. Ratchet went easy on me this morning since we have so much going on."

"Ah," she smiled back at the mech but it was strained. The pain in her head making it look more like a grimace. All she really wanted to do was sit down. "Gotcha."

"How are you feeling this morning?" Prowl observed the woman as she made her way to her desk, slightly fumbling as she climbed the stairs. "Pardon my saying, but you don't look like you feel very well."

"Yeah," Jazz frowned. "You look a little out of it, scraplet. Have you seen Ratchet?"

"No..." Amy waived off the mech's concern as she finally collapsed into her chair. "I'm fine. I have a headache and I think I might be catching a cold. I went over to Admin yesterday to run some paperwork and the guy at the desk was coughing and hacking all over the place. He offered me some candy while I waited and I was too polite to say no." She chuckled nervously, wincing as a stab of pain slashed through her skull. "Guess it serves me right for eating something given to me by someone who looks like they're dying from the plague. I took some meds, they just haven't had a chance to kick in yet."

"I don't know, D." Jazz shook his head. "With this whole spark energy thing with the twins, you should really think about gettin' checked out. Just in case."

"I agree," Prowl nodded. "This is an unprecedented situation and no one is certain how this could affect you. Ratchet advised that prolonged separation may be uncomfortable for the three of you, as it would be for anyone who is spark-tied. We didn't believe sending the twins on a trip this short of a duration would be a problem, however, if it's found you're being adversely affected we may need to reevaluate our operational protocols regarding deployment."

"What? No! It isn't a problem!" Amy insisted. "I'm not being...adversely affected. I'm just a little under the weather, that's all. It'll pass. Whatever is going on with all this spark stuff...it should in no way impact operational readiness or deployment. Operations is my job, for goodness sake!"

Prowl vented and looked to Jazz for help.

The smaller mech tried to reason with the woman. "D, we're just worried about you, is all. I promised Sunny and Sides I'd watch out for you while they were gone and I mean to do it. More importantly, I promised you that I'd have your back if you needed me. If anything happened to you, those two slaggers would be absolutely devastated. I'd be devastated...and Prowler here is pretty fond of ya, too."

"I appreciate the concern," Amy admitted. "I really do, but I'm fine...and even if I wasn't, I'm not more important than making sure operational standards are being maintained and I'm certainly not more important than fighting a war to the best that our abilities and manpower allow."

"What's the point of even fightin' a war if not to make sure the people that you love and care about are safe?" Jazz leaned forward in his seat and looked up at the woman sincerely. "Scraplet, to be perfectly honest...at this point, that's about all we have left. Whether you like it or not, D, you've made the list and we really can't afford to be scratchin' any more names off of it if we can help it."

Prowl said nothing, merely nodded solemnly in agreement with the other mech's words.

Amy took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, wincing a bit as she did so when a sharp pain stabbed through the middle of her chest. If she'd felt better, she'd have been touched. "Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "If it puts your mind at ease, if I'm not feeling any better in the morning I'll drop by and see Ratchet. I'm due to check in with him again anyway."

"It really would," Jazz flashed a relieved grin at the woman. "We care about ya, D."

"Yeah, yeah..." Amy slumped tiredly in her chair. "You and your emotional blackmail...you should be ashamed of yourself."

Prowl actually chuckled at that, a rare sound to be sure. "He certainly isn't."

"Nope," Jazz confirmed with an easy smile. "Not even a little bit."

Amy snorted in amusement before turning her attention to the SIC. "And this isn't going to affect how you do things?" She hesitated, "If there is a problem, I mean? I don't want to be responsible for single-handedly wrecking combat readiness."

"That certainly wouldn't be the case," Prowl assured. "Why don't we agree to revisit this issue once Ratchet has a chance to weigh in, the twins have returned, and we have more data? Fair enough?"

"Yeah," Amy sighed. "Fair enough."

"Good." The very corners of Prowl's lips turned up slightly. "That's settled, then."

Ugh..." Amy laid her head down on her desk and listened as the two mech's gradually picked back up on the conversation they'd been having when she'd walked in regarding the building of the containment unit. Apparently Prowl had been contacted by the SecDef who'd been quite helpful in suggesting that a pre-existing unit from something called 'Sector Seven' could be upgraded, repurposed, and relocated easier than it would be to start over from scratch. She listened half-heartedly until the world felt like it had stopped spinning around her and she felt stable enough to boot up her computer and do some actual work.

It was going to be a long day.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Whatcha doing, Sunny?" Sideswipe approached his brother and sank down next to him. They were currently in the belly of a military cargo plane somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, still a significant distance from their destination. Human transport was nothing if not extremely slow. He'd been passing the time by chatting with Bee, catching the scout up on all the happenings on base since he'd been away. Exhaustion and jet lag had finally caught up with the younger mech, however, and he'd folded himself up into his alt mode and fell into recharge. With nothing else to do, Sideswipe had avoided Ironhide and his brooding glare completely, and instead returned to the comfort and familiarity of his twin.

"Trying to stay busy," the yellow mech admitted with a frown as he studied the data pad in his hands. "Trying not to lose my fragging mind."

"Yeah," Sides pressed a hand over his chest plates, wincing at the hollow ache that resided there and trying to ignore the insistent tug telling him that he needed to turn around immediately and go home. "I know what you mean." He sat in silence for a moment, watching as Sunstreaker turned his attention back to the data pad. A fond smile tugged at his mouth, "That's the coast off of Valvolux, isn't it?"

"Mhmm," Sunstreaker confirmed with a nod. He'd been drawing, something he hadn't done in longer than he could remember. He was a bit rusty but the longer he doodled, the easier the lines seemed to flow. It wasn't long after that he'd found himself drawing in earnest a scene firmly engrained into his memory banks that recent events had brought to the forefront of his processor once again. Before he even realized it, he'd lost himself in the process and had sketched out a finely detailed picture of the jagged coastline along the Mithril Sea.

"I know I've probably said it a million times before but," Sideswipe bumped shoulders with his brother, "you're really talented, Sunny. I've really missed watching you work...it's beautiful. Are you thinking about painting it when we get back?"

Sunstreaker shrugged, "I don't know. I'm just...I don't know. It's just something to do to pass the time."

"You should," Sides encouraged. "I'm sure we could scrounge together some decent art supplies for you to use. I mean, Pit, we were able to gather up the materials to build a still to brew up some high grade. What's a little paint and canvas?"

"Yeah," Sunstreaker vented. "Maybe."

Sideswipe nudged the mech, leaning in to whisper in his audio, "I bet she'd love it."

Sunstreaker turned to glare at his twin. "Sides..."

"What?" Sides innocently asked. "She would. I know she would. She loves the ocean and it would give her something pretty to look at while she works. Besides," he shrugged, "It isn't everyday a femme learns that they're practically bonded to one of the greatest artists on Cybertron."

"Right," Sunny scoffed.

"I'm serious," Sideswipe insisted. "All the scrap hanging in the galleries was fragging garbage compared to your work. You know it as well as I do. No one is better than you are, Sunny...artist or otherwise." He stretched out against the bulkhead of the plane, closing his optics and trying to get comfortable. "No one. And I'm not just saying that because you're my brother and I love you. It's true."

Sunny looked down on his twin who'd sprawled out next to him and shook his head. "You're a slagging sentimental glitch, you know that?"

A grin split Sideswipe's features, "Guilty as charged." He cracked one optic open. "I'll help you find some supplies when we get home. Wake me up if anything exciting happens...or when we get there. Whatever happens first."

"Yeah, whatever." Sunstreaker turned his attention back to the data pad once more. "Get some recharge, slaghead."

"Love you, too, Sunshine."

"Don't call me that," Sunny halfheartedly demanded, one corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. He studied his picture for a long moment, mentally layering the appropriate colors over top the black and white image he'd created. They'd long since decided that Amy's office was sorely in need of some kind of decoration, preferably some that weren't stolen. Perhaps Sides was right. Maybe the Squishie would appreciate some art to go on her wall. It was something to think about, at least.

A derisive snort brought the yellow mech out of his musings. He looked up to find Ironhide staring at him with a look of repugnant aversion etched on his face plates. Sunstreaker immediately schooled his own face into a mask of detached apathy. "What the frag are you looking at, Hide? You got something you want to say?"

The weapon's specialist merely grunted, shook his head in what looked like pity, and went back to tinkering with his guns.

"Fragging cogsucker," Sunny muttered. He took one last look at the picture he'd drawn and saved the file before closing out of the program. He settled back against the bulkhead and thumbed through the rest of the saved files on the data pad hoping Sideswipe had something on there worth reading. One file in particular labeled 'Research' caught his attention. Sunny raised a brow in curiosity and glanced down at his brother. The mech was already deep in recharge.

Sunstreaker smirked at his dozing twin and shook his head, "The Pit kind of research you been doing, slagger?"

 **End of Chapter 29**

 **So, opinion time. How do you guys feel about Jazz x Prowl? I've kind of toyed around with the idea of making them more than just good buddies in this story but I'm not sure. If they were, it wouldn't really change any of the dynamics of the story that I've got mapped out. Well, it might slightly alter one thing that hasn't happened yet but in a good way, I think, if we go that route. It might also be kind of interesting to watch Amy discover that bit of info, lol. Can you imagine the look on her face? Ha, ha! Regardless, they'll still be BFFs forever in my head. Just wanted to know what you lovely people thought. I'm so indecisive!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 30**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Pop the cork on the champagne! We've reached chapter 30! I can hardly believe it. So, about this chapter...kinda sorta suggestive to start due to Sunstreaker discovering Sideswipe's 'research' but nothing too graphic. But, if you no like, please no read...just skip the first section and hop down to the next. Keep in mind, they're aliens in a relationship with a human trying to figure out how everything fits together. *wink, wink* The poor mech was just trying to be 'in the know', ya know? Totally for educational purposes. Don't judge him! Thank you to all of you who've added this story to your follows and favorites. I'm so happy to have your support. To my amazing reviewers: AquaJinx, Roofscat, 'Guest', Stickaroo, Jaden Kismet, Sirenix Prime, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Annie, hhutch20, jojoniles, sakurawriter, HenriettaDarlington, InsanityUnleashed, Pixiekatt, Tonythecool, DimensionJumperAlpha, The Whispering Sage, Edges05, ElleGirl19, ALoveForOrcas, MysticFire101, xXxEveryRoseHasItsThornxXx, Mysine, Inkaholic4U, BarricadesDemon216, KayleeChiara, the everchanging, Rhyssia, SubatomicTea...I appreciate all your feedback and critique from the very bottom of my little robot-alien loving heart!**

 **P.S. Sorry it took me longer than normal to get this one out. I caught a really nasty cold from my S.O. and was basically useless for about a week. I actually think I may have had the flu...at any rate, I'm feeling much better and can actually string a coherent sentence together again, lol.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"This is what you do in your free time, Sides? Malfunctioning bit brain..." Sunstreaker chuckled quietly in amusement as he tapped on the mysterious 'Research' folder he'd found on the data pad he'd borrowed from his brother. Inside, he'd found a series of sub folders labeled 'Humans' and all were sequentially numbered. Altogether there were about ten of them, the oldest dated from around the same time Sides had first stumbled upon Amy with the most recent folder being updated just a couple days ago. Sideswipe had obviously put a lot of time and effort into whatever this 'research' entailed given the amount of data he'd stored away.

Under any other circumstances, Sunstreaker would have been angry, furious even, that his twin had seemingly dedicated so much of his energy toward better understanding the planet's native inhabitants in the hope of establishing an intimate relationship with one. Honestly, despite their unique situation, Sunny still didn't care that much for the humans. He held firm in his beliefs that they were filthy, greasy little things that toed the line between being an ally and being a straight up pest. He had a reluctant respect for the soldiers who accompanied them out into the field but that was about the extent of his feelings where they were concerned. Reconciling his emotions for Amy had forced him to find away around his dislike of her species. He refused to think of her as 'One of Them'. Instead, he'd taken to thinking of her simply as 'Theirs' and pointedly ignored everything else to the contrary. The outside packaging didn't matter so much as the content and he was willing to overlook certain 'design flaws' the femme possessed if it meant the possibility they could find some peace. It was reasoning that he could live with at least.

He tapped on the first folder dated around the time this whole strange relationship had started. Inside he found a bunch of articles that had obviously been downloaded from the human's Internet. They all mostly centered around the same theme of how to approach women, how to tell if a woman is interested, how to make a woman interested, et cetera. He casually thumbed through the articles. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do. It was mostly a bunch of slag that he already knew just from his own experience and observations since being on the planet. Cybertronian and human body language, social queues, and indicators of sexual attraction, thankfully, ran along similar enough lines in most instances. That, at least, was one thing they had working in their favor. They knew how to pick up femmes. That had never been an issue.

Bored, he closed out of the first folder and tapped on the next. It was more of the same useless, information. Most of which, he noted with some amusement, was just common sense that any mech with half a processor should know. For example, an article discussing what not to say to women advised against making comments in reference to a woman's weight. Sunny shook his head, wondering at why human males would even have to be told not to do this. No femme, at least as far as he knew, wanted to hear that their aft looked like the tail end of a 69 Cadillac Coupe DeVille. On the other hand, he mused, the Squishie seemed like she had a nice aft. At least, what he'd been able to briefly grasp of it through the layers of her clothes had felt really nice...

He shook his head, chastising himself for his wayward thoughts and closed out of the file and skipped down to the next one. The subsequent three or four folders were all similar content and so he bypassed them with little interest. The next one however was...interesting in a morbid sort of way. Sunstreaker hadn't been sure what to expect when he tapped open the folder but he certainly hadn't counted on coming face to face with a series of detailed anatomical drawings of the human body that looked like they had been ripped right from the pages of some fleshy medical text book.

Initially, he was taken aback, even mildly disgusted, as he flipped through the images of the male human form drawn in various stages of dissection with all its parts neatly labeled. They only served to reinforce his view of humans as walking sacks of meat. He found himself wondering how such a species had even managed to survive this long, especially given the fact that the males seemed to have all their 'vital components' hanging loose and free outside of their bodies. It was revolting, really, and quite alarming...not to mention extremely unsightly. He certainly couldn't have lived like that, in constant fear of his unprotected interfacing equipment being damaged, or worse. He valued that particular piece of hardware far too much to risk it in such a manner.

He shuddered at the thought , thumbed passed to the next set of images, and paused.

His natural, visceral reaction to the medical drawings of the female form was also one of aversion but there was also some genuine curiosity given his and Sides' personal predicament. He squashed his repugnance for the moment and took time to actually look at the picture figuring it may at least be somewhat educational. What he saw was not in the least bit appealing or stimulating in any way, shape, or form. The standard anatomical model stared blankly out from the page, all skinless sinewy muscle, arms and legs stretched wide, offering nothing but a cold, clinical glimpse of what Sunstreaker could only see as a side of disgusting, organic fleshiness. He didn't like thinking of his Squishie that way and he refused to start doing so now, not after growing attached to her against his better judgment.

He quickly thumbed through the rest of the pictures that picked the model apart body system by body system, not wanting to see any more than he had to, when he finally came across something that didn't make him want to immediately purge his tank all over the aircraft. It was a simple black and white sketch diagram of the female human reproductive system. Sunstreaker perked up a bit, disgust replaced by a slight feeling of intrigue. He didn't know what a 'fallopian tube' did or what the purpose of an 'ovary' was but this...this was something that he knew. He didn't care what the arrows pointing to the picture called it. The humans could label it whatever they wanted but he knew an interface valve when he saw one. Sure, there were some definite structural variations but that was to be expected given the fact that they were two completely different species, he supposed. Still, it was similar enough to what he was familiar with that it actually put a part of his mind that he hadn't even realized had been worrying about such things at ease. He knew exactly what to do with one of these. Oh yes, he did.

He snorted, casting a glance down to his recharging twin. "As much as I hate to admit it, you may actually be on to something here, Sides," he muttered quietly.

The next two folders had similar medical-type information as well as some articles on human sexuality that he only skimmed over before moving on. He couldn't have cared less about human sexual preferences so long as the Squishie was into the two of them. It didn't matter anyway. If they could breach the interspecies hurdle, everything else was just details. They could certainly accommodate her tastes either way if it came down to something as trivial as that. Cybertronians were a highly adaptable species, after all. Not that they would ever push her into anything that she wasn't interested in but the possibilities were there if she wanted to explore them. He lingered a bit over a paper that described various human sexual practices and positions and found himself surprisingly impressed by both the creativity and the flexibility some of the more 'advanced' positions required. Still, he and Sides probably could have taught them a thing or two.

He absently wondered how familiar Amy was with the types of acts described. She was, after all, a sexually mature adult female. He was certain she hadn't been cloistered prior to their arrival on Earth and she was, he admitted with a twinge of masculine pride, very attractive...for a human, that is. She was desirable by her species standards, even if she didn't realize it and was totally oblivious. He certainly wasn't blind. He'd taken notice of how men's eyes would linger on her when she walked by. How they were a bit too friendly with her while conducting their business or casually touched her when they spoke to her. He realized at that moment that he didn't like thinking about her doing the types of things described in the article with anyone else. The thought of anyone else touching her, of knowing her in that way made his internal temperature rise and not in a good way. It was hypocritical of him, he knew. He and Sideswipe certainly hadn't been a pair of celibate hermits before meeting her. They'd had no qualms about indulging themselves whenever the opportunity presented itself. Which, he had to admit, was fairly often.

Before he could get too bogged down in those memories, he quickly exited out of the folder and moved on to the next. As soon as he tapped it open and the images and vid links contained therein loaded, his optics widened and then narrowed. He took a cautious glance around the cargo hold. Sideswipe was knocked out next to him in recharge, Bee was in his alt mode also resting, while Ironhide was still messing around with his sizable arsenal. The few humans sharing their flight, naturally, kept their distance from him...for safety reasons.

"You filthy fragger..." Sunstreaker smirked as he refocused on the data pad. Whatever footage Sideswipe had been busy collecting, it was obvious that he'd taken care to only select content that included petite, blonde females. Coincidence? Sunny thought not. It was glaringly obvious to Sunstreaker what Sideswipe's frame of mind had been when he'd downloaded these particular files. The women didn't really look all that much like their Squishie, not nearly as attractive or desirable in his optics, but the similarities were enough so that his imagination could fill in the blanks. He was an artist, after all. He had a very, very good imagination. He made sure the sound was muted and tapped on the first link with only a split moment of hesitation. Though he'd much prefer to be back in his and Sides' quarters with the femme in question nestled safely between them while they better familiarized themselves with her incredibly exotic softness, once he'd settled back against the bulkhead and the first video began to play he decided that this Primus-forsaken trip had just gotten a little more tolerable.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The day had dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Though Amy still felt like death warmed over, she'd found that if she remained as still as she possibly could that she didn't feel quite as bad as she did when she actually had to get up and move around. It was the strangest feeling, really, like being a wind up toy running out of momentum as the spring wound down. The smallest effort left her feeling utterly exhausted and out of sorts but she pressed on, refusing to admit that anything was wrong. She refused to be defeated by this...whatever it was. The pounding in her head continued unabated as did the lonesome ache in her chest. She resigned herself to doing paperwork most of the day as well as keeping an eye on the satellite imagery and Teletraan's feeds, a boring job she was for once thankful for as it required minimal physical effort.

Jazz had checked in on her frequently, as had Prowl who was in and out of the bunker as he kept tabs on the status of the work on the containment area. She managed to soldier through the worst of it, working diligently and putting on her most pleasant airs to put the mechs' minds at ease. That is, until the sawing and hammering started. It wasn't even that terribly loud being that they were working in the very back of the bunker and she was in the office with the door closed it it was enough to make her feel nauseated once again. After a couple hours of listening to teeth gritting, stomach turning, ear bleeding racket, she felt like someone was repeatedly bashing her head in with the claw end of a hammer. By the time 3 o'clock finally rolled around, she grabbed her things and practically ran from the office after shouting a quick farewell to both Jazz and Prowl on her mad dash toward the elevator. Her only thought was to escape back to the relative quiet of the barracks where she could curl up into the fetal position and sleep...or die. Whichever came first.

God, but she was so tired.

Her arms felt like dead weight at her sides and her legs like lead dragging her down as she made her way slowly toward the shuttle stop. Halfway there, an extreme feeling of fatigue washed over her and she actually had to stop for a moment and rest. She sagged against the side of a Humvee parked next to one of the buildings and tried to catch her breath. She felt like she'd run a marathon when in fact she'd only walked about a block. She let her eyes flutter closed and tried to resist the urge to curl up in a ball on the ground and take a nap. Maybe, she thought absently, all her sleepless nights were finally catching up with her. It was bound to happen sooner or later, she told herself. One couldn't function indefinitely on basically zero sleep without some sort of eventual crash. At least, she hoped that's what it was.

"Tesoro...mia bella, is everything alright?"

Amy's eyes snapped open to find Mirage kneeling before her with a concerned look on his face. She was actually a bit startled by his closeness. He was near enough that she could feel his warm ventilations wash over her as he 'breathed'. That he could sneak up on her without her even noticing put her slightly on edge. How out of it was she? Still, she put a smile on her face. "Hey, Mir-, uh, Dino. Yeah, sorry...everything's fine."

The mech rocked back on his heels, giving her some space to breathe. A frown creased his faceplates. "Are you certain, bel fiore? I called your name several times and you didn't answer. You look a bit ill, no?"

"Uh," Amy shifted uncomfortably. "I, uh, I think I may be coming down with something."

"Ah," Mirage nodded. "Have you spoken with il dottore?"

"Il dottore?" Amy's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Sì," Mirage nodded. "Ratchet. He is looking after you due to your...delicate condition...no?"

"Oh," Amy shook her head, chuckling softly. "My condition...yes. Yes, he is. No, I haven't seen him. Not yet. I was going to check in with him in the morning if I don't feel better. I think I may just need to sleep it off. I was on my way to catch the shuttle back to the barracks to do just that."

"I see." Mirage looked at the woman thoughtfully. "Please, allow me to take you home, bella. You should not have to wait for the bus if you're not feeling well and I would not be much of a friend if I didn't see to the needs of a damsel in distress."

Amy mulled the offer over. The shuttles ran every thirty minutes and a quick glance of her watch told her that she'd missed the last one by five minutes. The idea of having to sit at the stop for twenty-five minutes with a pounding headache and bone-deep exhaustion made her cringe. Plus, she'd rode with the mech before when Jazz had asked him to take her back to the barracks after the incident in the med bay so she really didn't see any harm in it. She looked back up at him. "Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want to put you out of your way."

"Nonsense. I insist," Mirage assured. "It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you," Amy smiled tiredly at the mech. "Very much."

Mirage inclined his head and stood, immediately collapsing into himself in an amazing display of mechanical magic. When he was finished, a shiny, red Ferrari 458 Italia rested in his place. The driver's door popped open in invitation. "Come, bella. I will happily escort you home."

Sluggishly, Amy climbed into the driver's seat put on her seat belt. She patted the center of the steering wheel gently and thanked the mech once again. "I really appreciate the ride, Dino. I honestly wasn't looking forward to waiting on the shuttle."

Mirage chuckled, "Your thanks are not needed, prediletto. I am most happy to be of service."

"Still..." Amy muttered sleepily as she rested her head back against the seat. "You're quite the gentleman, er, mech. I owe you one..."

They drove in mostly silence for a moment. Amy watched the now-familiar scenery go by with half-lidded eyes. Now that she was sitting still and not having to exert any effort she felt marginally better. The radio played softly in the background. Amy wasn't a fan of opera music, not really, but the woman singing had an absolutely lovely voice and the volume was low enough to be enjoyable even with her aching head. She allowed her thoughts to drift, wondering about the days events, the work going on down in the bunker, but mostly, she thought of the twins and how much she really wanted to talk to them again.

"I cannot believe those two delinquenti left you here by yourself," Mirage commented suddenly out of the blue. "Their prima priorità should be your wellbeing if what they say about your bond with them is true."

Amy started at the sudden sound of the mech's smooth accent rolling through the Ferrari's interior. She cocked a brow in question. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?"

"Sì," the mech confirmed, sounding a bit bitter. "They neglect you already."

"They aren't...they aren't neglecting me." Amy bristled, a need to defend her mechs welling up inside of her. "They really didn't have much choice in the matter. The powers that be decided they needed to go. They still have a job to do, you know. Whatever relationship we share with each other, that doesn't change the fact that there's a war going on and we need everyone to fight it. I'm military. I understand how these things go. You go where you need to go and do what you need to do to get the job done. I don't hold it against them."

"Perhaps," Mirage hummed. "But they could have refused. They could have demanded someone else be sent in their place. Had it been me, I would have fought to remain near my adorato. Especially given these unique circumstances, not knowing how my absence may affect her. Though, it shouldn't be surprising. They know nothing of devozione."

Amy frowned, "What do you mean?"

Mirage vented, "They are very, how do you say, bella...fickle."

Amy blinked. "Fickle?"

"Sì, piccolo," Mirage confirmed. "They are bored easily once the novelty wears off...always looking for the next thrill, the next battle, the next femme to warm their berth..."

"O-oh..." Amy's frown deepened. "I-I see..."

Mirage continued on, "They are ruffiani volgari...uncivilized. You are such a bella donna...a very smart, beautiful woman. It pains me to see you in such a predicament. That is why I say it is an unfortunate situation." The mech pulled smoothly up to the curb in front of the barracks. "Here we are. You are safely home, prediletto."

"I, uh...thank...thank you." Amy fumbled to release her seat belt as Mirage opened his door for her. With a bit more effort than she usually required, she levered herself up out of the car.

"You are most welcome," Mirage replied, his voice rumbling out from the idling car. "If I can be of any further service, please, do not hesitate to ask."

Amy nodded, "I appreciate that."

"And bella," the mech added as he shifted himself back into gear, "if you aren't feeling better in the morning, please, go see Ratchet."

"I'll do that," she promised.

"Addio, mio caro," Mirage bid her farewell as he pulled away from the curb.

Amy waved, frown still firmly on her face as she pondered the topic of their conversation. Mirage could have no idea of the demon he'd just released. Long held self-doubts began to scurry out of the darkest recesses of her mind to harass her. They weren't neglecting her, she told herself. They were doing their job. Hell, she'd been the one to tell them to go do their job. She'd literally just argued with Prowl over them doing their job. They weren't fickle. They weren't bored. At least, she didn't think they were. They hadn't seemed to be but...how would she know? She knew better than to let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. She'd learned the hard way that just about the time she'd begin to get comfortable was when the ground would be yanked out from beneath her. This was her fault. Her's. Always.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at the screen for a long moment. No calls. No messages. No texts. It was nearly 4 o'clock and, by her calculations at least, the plane the twins were on should be nearing its final destination if it hadn't already made it there. They'd promised her they would call. They would call. She nodded to herself in assurance even as a stab of loneliness twisted through her chest and the warmth lodged there flared achingly. They would call. She knew they would.

She shoved her phone back into her pocket and slowly made her way into the barracks building, feeling her energy wane again quickly as she did so. She nodded a hello to the posted watch who watched her warily as she picked her way across the lobby. Foregoing the stairs she usually took, pressed the button for the elevator to take her up to the appropriate floor. She'd never appreciated an elevator ride as much as she did at that moment. When the doors finally opened, she found herself longing for a moving walkway like those at the airport, as well, just to transport the short distance to her quarters. Uncoordinated but determined, she made her way down the hallway to her room, stumbling once or twice as her legs just didn't seem to want to cooperate with her brain's instructions. Once she'd located her door, it took her a time or two to get her key card in the slot and get it open. She fumbled her way into her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Her eyes landed on her bed and the urge to just curl up and hibernate hit her with a renewed longing.

Without much thought, she began to strip out of her uniform, letting the clothing articles lay where they fell, not bothering to put them into her laundry bag. She did take a couple extra seconds to unclip her military ID from her lapel and fish her phone back out of her cargo pocket and chuck them both onto her nightstand before collapsing onto her bed in just her undershirt and skivvies. It took what felt like a monumental effort just to claw her way up to her pillow and slide beneath the blankets. On her nightstand, the screen on her cellphone lit up as it buzzed, begging to be answered. She turned her head toward the sound, another stab of longing working its way through her chest even as a sleepy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and her eyes fluttered shut sending her into the dark, chasmal abyss with its mysterious, chattering inhabitant.

She knew they would call.

 **End of Chapter 30**


	31. Chapter 31

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 31**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! First and foremost, I want to apologize for how long it took me to get this chapter posted. It's been sitting on my iPad about 3/4 of the way done for months. Unfortunately, my schedule got all switched around and it's a lot harder to find the time to write. I'm hoping it'll be better now. We'll see. I appreciate all the messages I've got from you guys, checking to see if I'm still alive and breathing. I am! Thank you to all that have added this story to alerts and faves. Extra special thanks to my wonderful reviewers: SunnyandSidesFemme17, Sweet Sprinks, KayleeChiara, ElleGirl19, Edges05, adelphe24, DaLadyofSouls, Annie, jojoniles, SolusPrimeLightblast, Guest, Lioness32, Nox Clara, jgoss, MrsSparkle1, sakurawriter, Pixiekatt, Ashleen May, TitanFire, maria-ioanna984, Deimoss, Dawn Racer, o-dragon, the everchanging, Moontigerz, jellybeanz513, kvanausdoll, Shiracchan, LaurenA007, RedwoodGinger, GrimmaulDee, Desert Vulpes Zerda, Ekeifer, Rosmund Chadwick, poppycakes, kingcounty1**

 **If I've missed anyone, I'm sorry. Thank you soooo much for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

 **Love,**

 **VQ**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"She's still not answering," Sideswipe paced the floor inside of the motor pool maintenance garage they'd been herded into once they'd reached their final destination and had gotten off the plane. "I've tried six times. Why isn't she answering?"

"Maybe she's still working," Sunstreaker snapped. He was trying his damnedest not to appear worried but, honestly, between the nagging 'missing' feeling in his spark and the blunt ache of frustration perusing Sideswipe's 'research' had left him with, he was feeling a bit on edge. "Primus, give her a chance to get settled first."

"Its after 4 o'clock Diego Garcia time, almost five." Sides shook his head, "Jazz never keeps her this late and it isn't her duty night."

"She could be eating chow," Sunny argued for the sake of his own sanity. "Or in the shower. Or doing laundry. Or doing a million other things she hasn't had a chance to do because she's been spending all of her free time with us. Give her a few minutes and then we'll try her again. You're driving yourself crazy. Pit...you're driving me crazy."

Sideswipe vented worriedly and continued to pace.

Bumblebee whirred in sympathy. He knew first hand how difficult it could be to be responsible for the welfare of a human. Although, he was certain it was no where near as nerve-wracking as worrying over someone you cared about intimately. That had to be on a whole other level judging by the twins' behavior. As long as he'd known them, he'd honestly never seen them care about anyone as much as they fussed over the little, blonde human. It was a strange phenomenon to witness. Nice...but strange. He searched for something supportive to say. "I'm sure...she's...just fine," he managed to patch together. "You can...make it up...to...her...when we...get back."

From across the room, Ironhide made a gagging sound, grumbling something about not believing how casual everyone was being about interspecies fraternization.

Sunstreaker's head whipped around to glare in the mech's direction. He was already irritable and the mech's constant stream of snide comments about his and Sides' personal life wasn't helping. "I've about had it with all your quiet, self-righteous slag, Hide. You think we haven't noticed? If you have something to say, you come over here and say it to our faceplates."

Ironhide snorted, "Its nothing you two clutch munchers would want to hear."

Sunstreaker growled, "Then shut your mouth and keep it to yourself, slagger."

"I could say the same to you two," Ironhide rumbled. "No one wants to hear about your disgusting flesh fetish. I'm amazed Prime has let this perversion go on as long as he has. Spark exchange, my aft...more like an excuse to try and frag the local fauna without any repercussions. Figures you two would be the ones to concoct some elaborate scheme in order to try it."

Sideswipe stopped his pacing to stare at the battle-hardened mech with a mix of surprise and shock. "Hide...what...?"

Sunstreaker, however, felt a surge of rage wash though his systems, "The Pit did you just say? If you're implying what I think you are, I swear to Primus I'll..."

Bumblebee, sensing an imminent confrontation, quickly stepped between the two brothers and Ironhide and made a calming gesture with his hands. "Easy, fellas..." a voice with a southern twang drawled from the mech's speakers. "We're all friends here...ain't no need to go gettin' all rowdy..."

Ironhide merely shrugged, "I told you you didn't want to hear it."

"Wait..." Sideswipe shook is head, "You think we're making all of this up so...so we can interface with her?

"Wouldn't be the first time you two glitches have found a way to manipulate regs to get what you want." Ironhide smirked, "I know you two. I know your game."

"We're not playing a game," Sideswipe insisted. "She's walking around with a part of our spark, for Primus' sake. I'd think you of all mechs could understand that..."

"She's an organic," Ironhide argued with a look of distaste firmly plastered on his faceplates. "It isn't possible and if it is, it shouldn't be."

"Hide-" Sideswipe began to protest.

"Save it, Sides. Don't waste your time. He's doesn't understand a fragging thing about what's going on," Sunstreaker rumbled dangerously. "What he needs to do is start watching the slag spewing out of his mouth before I go over there and start watching it for him."

"Right," Ironhide scoffed at the yellow front liner and rolled his optics. "I'd hate to offend the human since you two selfish, conniving, self-centered glitches obviously care so much about her. Give me a break..."

"With pleasure," Sunstreaker snarled as he shoved Bumblebee out of the way and lunged at the larger mech.

"Sunny, no!" Sideswipe, in turn, made a grab for his brother, catching him around the waist and trying to haul him back away from the angry Weapon Specialist. He whispered frantically in Sunstreaker's audio, "Not worth it, bro. We'll be sent straight to the brig when we get back. The brig means no Ames..."

That seemed to get Sunny's attention, if only slightly. He and Sides had come to an agreement to try and stay out of trouble to the best of their ability for just that reason. He pushed at his brother, "Get off me." Sunstreaker shook his twin off, jabbed a finger in Ironhide's direction and growled, "Don't think this is over. It's not. Not by a long shot."

Ironhide snorted in amusement.

"Uh...S-sir?" A side door had creaked open to reveal a timid-looking Private. The soldier sent to retrieve the 'man in charge' looked exceedingly nervous having just walked into what appeared to be a tense standoff between giant alien robots. He cautiously addressed the Autobot's Weapon Specialist from a safe distance, "The...the Colonel sent me to let you know we're ready to pack the shard for transport if...if you'd like to come and, uh, supervise..."

Ironhide glared at the twins for another long moment before turning and addressing the human. "Yeah," he grumbled, "I could use the fresh air. It's a little too crowded in here for my liking. Lead the way."

The twins watched as Ironhide stomped out. Sideswipe wore a look of concern whereas his brother was simply angry.

After a long moment, the yellow front liner vented, "Try calling the Squishie again, Sides. I'm going to comm Jazz.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"What do ya mean she isn't answering?" Jazz's face was a picture of concern as he listened to Sunstreaker's hurried explanation of the situation over the comm.

Sunny vented in exasperation, "Sides has been trying to call her ever since we landed. It rings through to voicemail every time. She's not picking up."

The SIC checked his internal chronometer and made a worried sound. "D should have made it back to the barracks by now. She wasn't feelin' very well earlier today so I don't think she would be out somewhere-"

"Not feeling well, how?" The front liner demanded. "Why didn't anyone let us know she was sick? Is she alright? Has she seen Ratchet? Is it the spark connection?"

"I'm sure she's fine," Jazz tried to ease the mech's processor. "She said her head hurt and that she thought she was catchin' a cold. She's probably just sleepin' it off." The TIC spoke confidently but felt genuine worry pull at his spark.

Sunny growled, "If anything's happened to her while we're stuck over here, I swear..."

"I'm keepin' an optic on her, Sunny, I promise," Jazz assured. "D's my girl. I wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to her if I could help it. You know that." The mech glanced up at the SIC that sat perched on the corner of his desk listening to the conversation with a concerned frown of his own, "Prowl's here in the office with me overseein' construction. I'll ask him to drive over to the barracks and check on her, aight?"

There was a moment of silence over the comm before Sunstreaker vented heavily. "As soon as you know something comm us. Better yet, have the Squishie call us."

"Will do, Sunny," Jazz readily agreed, adding a, "I'm sure she's fine," for both their benefit before ending communications.

As the comm dropped, Prowl was already rising from his seat. "I'm on my way, Jazz. I'll comm you when I find out what's going on."

Jazz nodded even as his spark churned with unease, "Thanks, Prowler. I owe you one."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Prowl made a slight detour as he left the bunker. Instead of heading straight to the barracks where Petty Officer Doe stayed, he swung by the med bay first. He had a bad feeling about the current situation. More than that, his calculations had determined a high statistical probability for warranting medical attention given the data available. As was often the case, he hoped he was wrong but liked to be prepared.

He found the CMO in a storage room mumbling to himself and taking inventory of his equipment. He cleared his vocal processor to get the mech's attention, "Ratchet."

The medic's head jerked in the direction of the doorway, surprise evident in his optics. "Prowl," he greeted as turned to face the mech. "I didn't hear you come in."

Prowl got right down to business, "Are you terribly busy?"

"No," Ratchet shook his head In the negative, "With the Twin Terrors gone and not wreaking havoc all over base I've finally got some down time to take care of some of the housekeeping tasks I've been putting off. Did you need me for something?"

"I do," Prowl gave a sharp nod. "I'm afraid we have a potentially troubling situation that does involve the twins."

"Of course it does," Ratchet released a long-suffering sigh. "Pack them up and send them to the other side of the planet and they still manage to strip my wires. What've they done now?"

Under different circumstances, Prowl may have found the resigned look of perpetual irritation that warped Ratchet's features to be amusing. At the moment however, all he felt was worry. "Sunstreaker contacted Jazz just a few minutes ago to let him know he and Sideswipe have been unable to reach Petty Officer Doe by phone. They've made several attempts and all have rang through to her voicemail. Earlier today she wasn't feeling very well and informed Jazz and myself that she was going back to the barracks to rest once her shift was over. As far as I'm aware no one has spoken to her since then."

"Prowl," Ratchet scowled, "you know very well that my signing off on allowing the twins to go on this mission was contingent on me being kept up to date on Miss Doe's physical status! Any changes in her health were to be brought to my attention immediately! Why was I not made aware that she was ill?"

Prowl at least had the decency to look chagrined. He may have been the SIC but the CMO's orders overrode even those of Prime where the teams safety and wellbeing were concerned. They'd promised the femme they wouldn't make a fuss over her condition but that was no excuse for negligence. There was never an excuse for negligence. "This was a gross oversight on the part of myself and Jazz and I do apologize. It will not happen again."

"Fragging right, it won't," Ratchet snapped at the mech as he elbowed his way by to gather some supplies. "How long ago since you last saw her?"

The SIC checked his chronometer and felt a renewed sense of urgency. "Jazz and I last saw her little over two groons ago."

"Two groons!" Ratchet's optics widened and his frame stiffened in both anger and disbelief. "The poor femme is infused with spark energy that could potentially kill her, separated from the mechs she shares it with, becomes ill, and you wait two whole groons to bring it to my attention?" Ratchet cursed as he shoved human first aid supplies into subspace. "And you want to know what the astounding thing is? It took a comm from that yellow menace to get you two off your afts to check on the girl. Primus, Prowl, you and Jazz are supposed to be the responsible ones in this situation!"

Prowl really couldn't argue with Ratchet's logic and so simply nodded in concurrence.

"Well?" Ratchet glared at the SIC once he'd finished stuffing his subspace compartments. "Don't just stand there, let's go find the femme!"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

They reached the other side of the island in record time. Their alt forms helped immensely given humans' seemingly natural inclination to move out of the way of speeding emergency vehicles. By the time they pulled up in front of the barracks building and transformed, it was nearing six o'clock in the evening. Most of the personnel stationed on base were off duty by this time except for essential personnel and those making up the day's duty roster. Those who were not burdened by work, seemed to be out enjoying the balmy ocean breeze. A quick perusal of the area confirmed that Amy was not among them.

Ratchet vented, "Do we know even which room is her's?"

"Personnel records has her listed as staying in room 3-B." Prowl cross-referenced the information with a blueprint schematic of the building. He pointed to a window on the third floor facing the street. "Which would put her in there."

"Call her," Ratchet ordered.

Prowl nodded, going silent as he did as the CMO asked. After a moment, he shook his head. "No answer. As Sunstreaker said, it goes straight to voicemail. Her voicemail box is full so I'm assuming they haven't been able to reach her either."

"Slag it," Ratchet cursed. He wasn't as close to the woman as, say, Jazz or the twins but, the impression he'd got from her during the time he had spent with her was one of a responsible professional. He couldn't picture her blatantly ignoring calls from concerned colleagues. He certainly didn't believe she'd blow off the twins, not unless something was preventing her response. His processor whirred as he tried to work out the best way to access his patient as there was no doubt in his mind that something was not right.

About that time, the doors to the barracks flew open and a young man wearing a pair of Navy sweats and a t-shirt came bounding down the steps. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings which could have been due, in part, to the earbuds he had shoved into his ears. They blasted a cacophonous racket that was still just audible over the the typical base noises. If he hadn't had other concerns front and center in his processor, Ratchet would have cringed at the thought of the damage the man was most likely inflicting on his ability to hear properly.

"You there," Ratchet pointed at the man, stepping in front of him, and blocking his path.

The man startled, one hand flying to his chest in surprise while the other grabbed the cord for his earbuds, yanking them out. "Jesus Christ, man!"

"Apologies." Ratchet continued hurriedly, "Perhaps you can help us. We're in need of some assistance."

"Uh," the man looked from the medic to the SIC standing nearby and swallowed hard. He nodded slowly. "Sure, alright, uh, what do you need?"

Prowl stepped forward, "What's your name?"

"Monroe," he answered, adding a hesitant, "sir."

The SIC pressed on, "Do you know Operations Specialist Doe, Monroe?"

All the color seemed to drain from the man's face and droplets of sweat began to bead across his forehead. Monroe threw his hands up in a defensive gesture as he backed away. "Look man, I already told your friend that I didn't mean anything by it. It was just talk, alright? I haven't laid a single finger on her and I've kept my distance. I have two younger sisters and was raised by a single-mother. I have the utmost respect for women and OS2 in particular. I've already apologized. I'm not sure what else I can do. I thought we were cool..."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're babbling about." Ratchet frowned, "Do you know the femme or not?"

"Uh…" Monroe looked confused but hesitantly nodded any way, "Yeah, I-I do…"

"Good. We're concerned that she may be unwell," the medic advised. "We're here conducting a welfare check since we've been unable to contact her by phone. Unfortunately," he gestured to himself and Prowl, "our stature prevents us from going up there ourselves."

"So…" Monroe's eyes shifted suspiciously between the mechs. "You want me to go up there and knock on her door or something?"

Prowl nodded, "Its very important that we speak with her. If you could go ask her to come down we'd be most appreciative. We need to see her."

"Okay," Monroe, sensing their urgency, reluctantly agreed. "I can do that but first I want to state for the record that it's ya'll asking me to go up there so I better not get any shit for this later."

Ratchet shot Prowl a puzzled look but the other mech merely shrugged. Ratchet shook his head, "You have our word. Time, however, is of the essence."

Monroe backed toward the steps. "I'll, uh, I'll just go check on her then."

"Ask whomever's on watch for a room key," Ratchet called behind the retreating man. "In case she's incapacitated."

"Right," Monroe muttered to himself as he re-entered the building. "How sick is you, OS2? Got aliens all coming to the house to check on you and shit…"

It took a bit of haranguing on his part, but Monroe managed to convince the soldier on watch to provide him with Doe's room key. He supposed having two anxious-looking Autobots pacing around outside the front of the building helped his argument. Resigned to his task, he'd made his way to the elevator and punched the button that would take him to the third floor. He felt bad for the way he'd been avoiding his fellow sailor and he sincerely hoped the bots were wrong about her being unwell. He liked her and thought she was a pretty cool chick to hang out with but it had been made pretty clear to him that she was a 'no-go' zone.

Monroe shuddered at the memory.

He honestly hadn't meant anything by his comments. It was just guy talk, nothing really serious. Just a bunch of macho bullshit to pass the time. The concept seemed lost on the psychotic, yellow front liner, however. The mech had threatened to turn him into an oily smear if he caught him so much as looking at the woman wrong. He'd been serious as a heart attack and there was no doubt in Monroe's mind that the bot would make good on his threat if it came down to it. He'd been actively avoiding Doe ever since…just in case.

He didn't know how Doe did it, honestly…working so close with them every day. He didn't think he could do it and stay sane. There was only so much crazy a man could take. He'd always believed his biggest fear had been heights. His time spent at Diego Garcia thus far had taught him that his biggest fear was, in fact, being stepped on.

Repeatedly.

By a giant, perpetually pissed-off robot.

While it's brother watched.

Monroe shook off his thoughts when the elevator dinged alerting him that he'd reached the appropriate floor. He stepped out and headed left in accordance to the arrow sign on the wall that pointed him in the direction of the correct room number. Doe's room was at the very end of the hall on the left. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what he was walking into but sincerely hoped the woman was alright.

"Hey, Doe," Monroe called out as he knocked on the door, "Its Monroe. You, uh, you have some visitors downstairs."

He waited a moment and when there was no answer or sound of movement from within the room, he tried again. "OS2, you home? I'm being so serious right now, there are two big ass robots outside asking to see you so, uh, if you could go down there let them know you're alright that'd be great." The man chuckled nervously, "They scare the fucking piss out of me, to be perfectly honest with you."

Monroe waited another full minute and still got no response.

"Fuck my life," he muttered under his breath, fishing the spare key card out of his pocket. He looked at it for a moment and took a deep breath before sliding it into the slot. When the sensor of the door flashed green, he turned the handle and eased it open. "Alright, OS2, I'm coming in. You better be decent. I don't want to have to explain to your buddies how I saw you in your skivvies."

As the door eased open, Monroe's gaze swept over the rooms interior. Nothing really looked out of place except for a couple uniform items that seemed to have been haphazardly shed onto the floor. Other than that, the woman seemed to be as neat as a pin. However, when his eyes landed on the woman laying motionless and sprawled across the bed, he wasn't even sure if she was breathing or not. "Aw, shit."

"Don't be dead, don't be dead…" He pushed the rest of the way inside the room, approaching her cautiously. "Hey," he whispered. "OS2…you alright?" Carefully, he reached out to gently give her a shake. She looked terrible, pale and drawn. Dark, shadowy circles hung beneath her eyes and even cocooned in a blanket she was icy to the touch. Breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding came whooshing out from his lungs when a quiet groan slipped from between her lips. "Oh, thank you, Jesus…"

Amy's eyes fluttered slightly and she began mumbling something about a light that frankly, to Monroe's ears, made absolutely no sense whatsoever but definitely freaked him out.

"Shh," he soothed. "Just relax, OS2. I got you. We're gonna get you downstairs and everything is going to be fine."

He hoped. This was not how he was expecting his evening to play out when he geared up to go jogging. The only thought in his head was getting the ill woman down to the two robots he'd left waiting outside. He flipped the covers off of her to help her out of bed only to immediately jerk them back over her again

"You're not wearing any pants. Of course you're not," he cursed quietly. "You're in bed. Why would you be?" He glanced frantically around the room, his eyes landing on the laundry bag tucked away into one corner. He crossed the room and dug through the bag, grabbing the first pair of pants he could find which happened to be a pair of blue sweatpants.

Monroe once again flipped the covers back and, as quickly as he could, began dressing the woman. "Alright, Doe, let's make you presentable. If anyone asks, I didn't see shit, alright? This never happened."

As he lifted the woman from the bed bridal style, once it became apparent that she wasn't going to be able to walk down on her own, the cellphone lying on her bedside table began to vibrate. The screen lit up, the caller ID illuminating the very name that had been giving him nightmares as of late. Monroe paled as if he'd seen a ghost and, as fast as his legs would carry him, he hightailed it out of the room and back down the hall to the elevator with Amy in tow.

 **End of Chapter 31**


	32. Chapter 32

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 32**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I'm happy to get back with you much sooner than I did last time. I've been thinking about this fic so much and how I want everything to play out that I'm actually dreaming about it…just trying to get it all written down. Big thank you's to everyone who's added this story to their follows and faves. Extra large thank you's to my wonderful reviewers: AquaJinx, SunnyandSidesFemme17, t0neverland7, LaurenA007, 'Guest', F-22Raptor16, adelphe24, Leonixon, poppycakes, Ekeifer, jellybeanz513, o-dragon, jgoss, KayleeChiara, Annie, SolusPrimeLightblast, ElleGirl19, Pixiekatt, CamaroLady, I Write When I am Bored, GrimmaulDee, Ponderella, Optimis is Bae, Selina Potter5, monkeybaby, WantFanFics, SummerMistedDragon, BarricadesDemon216**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

If they'd reached the barracks in record time, they'd reached the med bay even faster. They'd had to swear the sailor who'd assisted them to silence on the incident. Monroe had been terribly shaken by the entire affair. He'd wanted to call an ambulance for his colleague and it had taken quite a bit of assurance as well as a subtle threat involving a particular set of twins to convince him that they had the situation in hand and that it was in his best interest not to mention what he'd seen. Ratchet could appreciate the man's concern for his friend's health but was also aware that her condition would only raise questions if she were allowed to be examined by human authorities. The answers to those questions, he knew, they wouldn't accept, let alone be able to understand. He doubted they would have been able to do anything for her anyway.

Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could, either.

For all his vorns spent studying medicine and perfecting his technique, he'd never stumbled across a situation like this before. It set an entirely new precedent in regards to the dynamics between Cybertronians and organic species. It was a delicate predicament at best and he was well aware that the lives of no fewer than three separate individuals hung precariously in the balance, hinging on his ability to stabilize conditions. No pressure there. Still, as a medical professional and scientist, Ratchet embraced it as an opportunity to learn and study. The current circumstances were no exception.

"Despite the graveness of this situation, I have to say, this is truly fascinating." Ratchet hummed as he scanned the nearly comatose woman. "I certainly didn't expect this type of reaction when her condition came to light."

Prowl's face was firmly set in a look of concern as he watched the CMO work on the woman. "Have you determined what's wrong with her, Ratchet? Is this some sort of side effect of the twins' spark energy?"

"I'd say the lack of, rather." The medic cleared his vocal processor, "In humans, there is a process called cellular respiration. It's a type of metabolic reaction that converts the biochemical energy from the foods they eat into a nucleotide called adenosine triphosphate, or ATP. It is a crucial reaction as it is responsible for releasing the chemical energy that fuels all of their cellular activity. The catabolic activities in Miss Doe's cells, however, are currently nearly nonexistent."

"Care to repeat that again for those us us who don't speak science, doc?" Jazz had rushed to the med bay as soon as Prowl had contacted him and currently sat perched on a stool next to the berth, worriedly petting the woman's hair. "What does that mean?"

"Remember the whole discussion we had about humans not having sparks and how an energy load even as minuscule as the one she's received should have completely destroyed her nervous system?"

Jazz and Prowl both nodded.

"I'll have to award a point to human adaptability in this case. It's amazing, really." Ratchet put his tools away and quickly keyed some information into the medical record he'd begun keeping on the woman. "Her body has managed to find a way to distribute the spark energy and keep the level more stabile at the cellular level without damaging the neurological system by absorbing it directly into the cells' mitochondria and utilizing it instead of ATP as a fuel source. Mitochondria are more plentiful in cells that have a tendency to work harder, like, for example, those that make up the cardiac muscle. More mitochondria means a greater concentration of spark energy in that area. That would certainly account for the warmth and electrical sensation she says she feels in her chest all the time."

Jazz frowned, "That still doesn't explain why she can barely hold her head up, doc."

"While a brilliant adaptation to an extreme situation, it appears to have had an unintended side effect, I'm afraid." Ratchet crossed the room and began searching through his cabinets, pulling out an IV starter kit and a couple bags of normal saline that he had on hand for research purposes. From another cabinet he procured a cube of medical grade energon. "Since she has no spark of her own with which to produce more 'fuel', for lack of a better term, my hypothesis is that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe have continued to feed her, so to speak, with their own. Whether through direct physical contact with her person or possibly through an extension of their EMF or their spark core force fields, they're still sharing their energy with her. Their sudden absence seems to have thrown her into a withdrawal of sorts. It would seem her body is now having difficulty making up the energy difference on its own. In very simple terms," the CMO vented, "She's starving to death at the cellular level."

"Starving?" Jazz's optics widened in concern behind his visor as his frown deepened. "How do we fix this?"

"I'm not sure we can 'fix it'," Ratchet admitted with a huff of helpless irritation. "I could possibly mitigate the symptoms but I've never dealt with a situation like this before. Her metabolism has slowed drastically, I'm assuming as some sort of energy conserving reaction. At the current rate of decline, I'm not sure she'll make it until those two hooligans return without going into a full fledged coma. Or worse."

"That isn't an acceptable outcome. There must be something you can do for her," Prowl pressed. "You said you could mitigate her symptoms."

The CMO leveled a hard gaze on the SIC, "Not without inherent risk." He motioned to the supplies he'd gathered. "There may be a possibility that infusing her with a small amount of extremely diluted energon may provide the metabolic boost needed to spur her cellular processes back into action. It certainly won't cure her reliance on the twins but may at least stabilize her condition until they return."

"Alright," Jazz vented, never taking his optics off the small, fragile human he'd grown to care so much for. "What kinda risks we talkin' about here, doc?"

"You must understand, there's a reason the humans treat energon like hazmat," Ratchet cautioned. "Introducing it directly into her blood stream could poison her. Even in a highly diluted state, there's a real chance that it could overwhelm her bodies ability to process it despite the presence of the spark energy to help burn it. That is, if her body can process it all. Worst case scenario, it could kill her or potentially damage her beyond repair capabilities if not absorbed and utilized properly."

Prowl questioned, "Do we have another option?"

"Unless you've discovered a way to magically transport the twins back," Ratchet shook his head. "We can wait and see what happens, keep her comfortable, but I can't guarantee she won't be suffer irreparable cellular damage by the time they make it home. Eventually, without fuel to carry out basic processes, her cells will begin to die and her vital organs will begin to fail."

Prowl nodded in concerned understanding and looked to the worried TIC, "With the twins gone, her care and guardianship fall to you. What do you want to do, Jazz? It's your call. I'll support your decision either way."

Jazz sucked oxygen down deep into his intakes and let it out in a slow hiss of pressurized air. He gazed at Amy long and hard, his processor quickly flitting through his options and the potential outcome of each. After a moment, he nodded. "Let's do it, Ratch. Doing something is better than doing nothing and in her condition, I don't think we have much of a choice."

Ratchet nodded in agreement. "I'll need Optimus' permission to proceed given the situation and potential consequences and repercussions should the worst come to pass but I really do believe this is her best chance until Sunny and Sides are home."

"Optimus is currently meeting with the Secretary of Defense. I'll inform him of the situation as soon as he's free," Prowl assured. "Go ahead and do what you need to do, Ratchet. The sooner she's stabilized, the better it will be for all involved. If there's any issues, I'll take full responsibility for making the call. I'll go comm the twins and make sure they're aware of what's happening."

"They're in a very precarious state, themselves, and Sunstreaker is nearly psychotic on a good day." Ratchet frowned, "Are you sure that's wise? Perhaps it would be better to wait until we have her stabilized."

A pained look flashed across Prowl's face so quickly that it was nearly missed. "When it comes to those you care about, not knowing is worse. They're beside themselves with worry." He shook his head, "I never believed I'd live to see the day those two cared about anyone more than they cared about themselves. They deserve to be kept informed at the very least."

"I'll do it," Jazz quietly spoke. "I'll comm them. They should hear it from me. I'm supposed to be takin' care of her."

Prowl placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and nodded, "Very well. I'll find Optimus and inform him of the situation. Keep me posted and comm me if you need me."

Jazz smiled sadly, "Will do, Prowler. Thanks."

"Yes," Ratchet agreed. "Thank you, Prowl."

The SIC took one more long look at the woman before he nodded in farewell and, turning sharply in his heel, marched quickly out of the med bay.

Once the door had shut, Jazz turned back to the CMO. "She's gonna be alright, right Ratch?"

"I certainly hope so," the medic quietly answered as he carefully set up the IV equipment. "For everyone's sake."

As Jazz contemplated exactly how he was going to explain this scenario to the twins, the pair of mechs drifted into a heavy silence punctuated only by the occasional beep of the equipment Ratchet had set up to monitor Amy's condition.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"This is taking too long." Sunstreaker had gone from quietly brooding to pacing the garage like a caged animal. "How fragging long does it take to drive to the other side of the island and check on somebody?"

Sides vented, "Should we try calling again?"

"I just did," Sunny barked. "Went straight to slagging voicemail and I couldn't even leave a message. The box was full." He kicked the back tire of a Jeep as he stalked by, sending the vehicle skidding sideways into the side of another vehicle. The crunch of crumpling metal wasn't as satisfying as he'd hoped. "We should have told them to shove this fragging mission up their aft ports and stayed on base."

"Primus," Sideswipe scrubbed a hand down his face. "This piece of shard better be worth the trip."

The two were alone inside of the maintenance garage, Bumblebee having ventured out in search of Ironhide to give them some privacy. Not that it mattered or they cared. It was shaping up to be a bright, sunny Kentucky morning but it nearing six o'clock in the evening Diego Garcia time and they still hadn't been able to reach Amy. Neither of them wanted to voice it but they could feel something was wrong. Everything felt strangely off kilter and out of balance. They may not have been spark bonded to the woman but they were close enough to know that Amy wouldn't do something like this to them intentionally. At least, they hoped she wouldn't.

"We're not doing this again," Sunny spat. "The next time they want somebot to run their errands they can get the slagging trinket to do it."

Despite his worry for Amy, Sideswipe snorted in amusement. "Mirage? Get his hands dirty? You must have a bolt loose somewhere, bro."

Sunstreaker sneered, "That elitist glitch is going to have more than a bolt loose if he doesn't learn to keep his mouth shut and mind his own fragging business."

"He's really been grinding your gears lately, hasn't he?" Sides watched as his brother continued to pace and was somewhat grateful for a change in topic, not that it did much to quell his worry. "You never did tell me why you hit him."

"Him being a pompous son of a scrap heap isn't reason enough?" Sunny smirked, "This isn't Iacon. All his fake aft, high society friends, swanky parties, and evenings lounging around his estate sipping vintage energon out of platinum cubes don't mean slag out here and he knows it. Here, he's no better than a couple of scrappers who grew up on the streets of Kaon making ends meet by fighting in the pits."

"I'm not sure I follow," Sides' face scrunched in confusion.

Sunny laughed but there was no real humor in it. "Trinket's finally starting to realize credits and influence can't buy everything and it's fragging killing him. Or haven't you noticed how interested that fragger's been in our personal activities lately?"

"Wait," Sideswipe shook his head "Is this about Ames?"

Sunstreaker leveled his steely gaze at his brother, "It's about that glitch thinking he's so much better and more deserving than we are. It fries his circuits to think that a couple of nobody, low-caste mechs without two credits to rub together can show up on some disgusting, backwater, dirt ball of a planet and find the one good thing on it while he's still wallowing in self pity over the fact that human military bases don't have concierge service."

"Mirage is always talking out his aft." Sideswipe waved off his brother's concern. "That's nothing new, Sunny. Mechs like him, they were sparked believing they can throw some credits around and get whatever they want. When that doesn't work, they start acting like sparklings. You can't take that slag personally. Besides," he shrugged, "she isn't like that, Sunny. She doesn't care about any of that slag."

Sunstreaker demanded, "How do you know? We barely know a fragging thing about her!"

"We know enough." Sides huffed in exasperation, "Primus, Sunny, give her some credit, will you? This is Ames we're talking about, not some high-caste femme with a penchant for cyberfox hunts and weekends in Crystal City. Her great indulgences in life are the ocean and chocolate chip granola bars."

Sunny glared at his brother for a moment before looking away, his jaw clenched so hard it made his denta creak. "Fine," he reluctantly conceded. "You're right…but if that fragger says one word to her…"

Sideswipe snorted, "What could he possibly say that has you wound so tight that you're over clocking your processor?"

Sunstreaker opened his mouth to answer. He wanted to tell his brother that there was plenty that could be said. The truth of the matter was that even though he continued to have a deep rooted disgust for the sticky, organic mess that was humanity, he wanted the Squishie to see them in a favorable light. They had a past. A dirty, disreputable, and sometimes unscrupulous past that garnered neither the faith nor respect of those made privy to it. Even among their fellow Autobots it sometimes felt as if they were constantly having to prove themselves worthy of being a part of the team. The thought of having their human look at them, a condescending look of vague uncertainty as to the sincerity of their motivations gleaming in her wide, green eyes, sent a sharp spike of coldness straight through his spark.

He never got the chance.

At that very moment, the base seemed to quite literally explode in a cacophony of sound and flurry of frenzied motion that had both mechs immediately charging toward the doors and out into the bright morning light, weapons drawn, powered up, and ready to fire. As the warning siren continued blaring, a booming voice over the base-wide address system began shouting orders for the human soldiers to take up arms and reinforce defensive positions. Other voices soon joined the ruckus, crackling over various radio frequencies as forces were scrambled and advised that the Kentucky Air National Guard out of Louisville had jets in the air and were en route.

Sideswipe surveyed the frantically scurrying humans, trying to get a bead on what was happening. "The Pit is going on?"

"Decepticons," Sunstreaker rumbled darkly. Already, the anticipation of battle sent a familiar heat flowing through his lines. His body settled into a disturbingly familiar combat stance. This was something he knew well, something he was good at. Something he was the best at. He hadn't even thrown the first punch yet and already felt more into his element than he had in months. Certainly more so than he had since Sideswipe had gotten them irrevocably tangled up with the human. He opened a comm link, "Hide, where are you?"

"Air strip," the Weapon Specialist immediately replied. "Get your rusty afts over here. We've got company inbound. Want to make sure we greet them properly."

"On our way," Sunny replied brusquely before severing the connection. He turned to his brother, "Ready to cave in some Con heads?"

Sideswipe grinned menacingly, "Always."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The air strip was about a quarter mile from the maintenance garage. With their chosen alt modes, came to ability to go from 0 to 60 miles per hour in just 2.9 seconds and nothing got the twins moving faster than the opportunity to smash Decepticons. Growing up and living their lives inside of a Decepticon controlled City-State, they were more than familiar with just how vile and depraved their adversaries could be. Therefore, the pair had no qualms about turning their talents against the very ideologies that had forced them into a position to cultivate them to begin with. As the human saying went, payback was a bitch.

As they came upon the scene, they could immediately see Bumblebee grappling with Barricade. The youngling may not have been the largest or strongest of the Autobots, but time and experience had made him an adequate, if not capable fighter. The twins often mused that, had the young mech not been so soft-sparked and so baby-faced, to use the human terminology, he may have been intimidating given the right circumstances. As it was, the normally upbeat, jovial bot didn't have a truly violent bolt in his body.

The twins, however, were a completely different story.

The Decepticon scout was many things but he wasn't stupid. Seeing the infamous pair of former gladiatorial combatants enter the fray, Barricade immediately attempted to disengage the younger Autobot in order to fall back to a more suitable, safer position. He hadn't agreed to accompany Starscream on this mission to retrieve the shard in order to boost the Decepticon ranks just to end up a twisted piece of scrap. What the Air Commander may decry as cowardice, he chose to view as a strategic retreat.

The Con's evasive maneuvering hadn't escaped the twins' careful survey of the battlefield.

"I call dibs on Barricade!" Sides grinned as he he unsheathed his arm-mounted Cybertanium swords and skated off eagerly in the direction of the retreating mech, blowing past Bumblebee at speeds the younger mech couldn't even hope to achieve in his alt form.

Sunstreaker watched his brother head off in pursuit, satisfied that he could handle his own against the Decepticon. Refocusing, he could see Ironhide across the airstrip, taking potshots at a jet that circled high above. It had been too long since he'd last pitted his skills against a Seeker. His lip plates curled into a malicious sneer, "Starscream."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Prowl had scoured the hangar in search of his leader. Prime hadn't been in his office. The meeting with the Secretary of Defense had seemingly been cut short. There were only so many places a mech as large as Optimus could disappear to. That led Prowl to the conclusion that he was no longer in the vicinity. He needed to find him and alert him to the status of Petty Officer Doe and the twins. His optics did one more careful sweep of the hangar, just to make sure he hadn't perhaps overlooked the faction leader possibly contorting himself into some small, dark corner in an attempt to allude undesirable bureaucrats…like Galloway.

Prowl shuddered at the thought of the snide, sniveling man and his constant, selfish demands.

Instead of a camouflaged Prime, however, his optics landed instead on the Autobot infiltrator perched casually atop a large cargo container against the far wall as if he hadn't a care in the world. With a huff of slight irritation, he strode purposefully toward the mech.

"Dino," the SIC barely managed to keep from rolling his optics at the absurd nickname Mirage had given himself.

"Prowl," Mirage greeted with a polite nod. "It is good to see you. It is a lovely evening, no?"

"No," Prowl deadpanned. "It isn't."

Mirage lifted a brow plate on surprise, his mouth pulling down into a frown. "Non bene?" He seemed to contemplate for a moment before offering, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I highly doubt it." The SIC vented, "Have you seen Prime?"

"Sì," the other mech nodded. "He was in a meeting. Lennox and Epps came running into the hangar. Next thing I see, they are all running back out. Molto veloce." He paused a moment before continuing. "Optimus, he did ask me where you were but, I tell him you're dealing with a medical emergency."

Prowl eyed the mech, "What do you know about our medical emergency?"

"Niente," he denied. "I see you and Ratchet and Jazz all hurry to the med bay. I assume something serious has happened."

"Do you know where Prime went?"

"No," Mirage shook his head. "He did not say. If I had to guess…maybe control hangar."

"Thanks," Prowl pivoted sharply on his heel and headed for the exit.

Mirage called out after him, "This…emergency? Everything is okay, yes?"

"It better be," Prowl bit out as he strode out into the evening air.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Prowl found Prime right where Mirage had assumed he'd be. The mech looked stressed, as he often did, a perpetual mask of worry creasing his face plates. He leaned heavily against the railing that circled the nerve center of their operations, his optics glued to the various monitors and screens, seeming oblivious to the small, organic creatures that swarmed around his feet in a strangely coordinated dance of activity. Prowl felt his optic twitch. Something had obviously gone wrong.

More than what he was currently privy to, that is.

"Optimus," Prowl cautiously approached his leader, bracing for whatever it is he was about to learn and also steeling himself to pass along the information he'd picked up in the med bay. "I'm afraid we may have a serious problem."

"Yes," Prime vented wearily as he continued to stare at the satellite data and casualty reports flooding into the data stream from half a world away. "I'm afraid we do, old friend."

 **End of Chapter 32**


	33. Chapter 33

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 33**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a fantastic day! This chapter was going to end up being way longer than I had intended so I had to split it in half. Sorry about that! On the bright side, I've already got about 2.5k more words typed up and about 1.5k more to go to finish off the second half PLUS a jump start on the chapter after that, as well. Our fam will be reunited soon and we may just finally find out about Amy's past. I'm so excited! And also kind of anxious because even though this is my story and I know whats going to inevitably happen, it kind of makes me nervous. I've been working on a lot of future content as I go along, also. I'm such a haphazard writer. I don't like to think of it as disorganization. I call it "Spontaneous Bouts of Inspiration" just to make myself feel better. Also, I think we need more fluff and soon. I'm working on that, as well. Thank you to those who've added this story to their alerts and follows and especially to my fantastic reviewers: KHandFF7fanforever, The Whispering Sage, monkeybaby, adelphe24, Ekeifer, jgoss, Stickaroo, poppycakes, jellybeanz513, alexae15, SolusPrimeLightblast, o-dragon, Annie, Guest, Songbird's Spirit, xIliadx, SummerMistedDragon, 'Guest', Ponderella, Pixiekatt, TFSTARFIRE**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Hot.

Everything was hot. She felt like she was burning up from the inside out, like she had molten lava flowing through her veins. The last thing she consciously remembered was collapsing on her bed and, right before succumbing to unconsciousness, her phone ringing. The caller display had illuminated, showing the names of the very people she'd so desperately wanted to talk to. Relief had spread through her.

Then…blackness.

Her mysterious companion continued to pace her, never quite coming into her line of sight, chattering away in that strange, alien language she still couldn't quite decipher. Still, she trudged forward toward the light source across the endless plane of black nothingness as she always obediently did. No matter that it was a futile task. It never seemed to matter how fast or how far she walked, any progress she made toward her goal seemed grossly insignificant when compared to the effort and energy being put forth.

Frustration began to creep into the edges of her consciousness, compounded by a deep rooted feeling of loneliness in the vast space of nothingness that surrounded her, helplessness even, that made her want to curl up into a ball and cry. At that moment, she would have given anything in the world just to be able to go home. As soon as the thought crossed her feverish mind she realized how absolutely ridiculous it sounded even in her semi-lucid dream state. She didn't know where home was. She didn't even know what a home was, for that matter. She'd never had one, not really. Nowhere safe and sound to call her own. To be yearning so desperately for something that had never existed in the first place went beyond her ability of comprehension but didn't lessen the feeling of longing. She was absolutely certain that she wanted to go home…wherever that was.

Her ever present guardian seemed to pick up on her train of thought. How she knew this to be so, she couldn't begin to explain. Whatever he/she/it was, it seemed to empathize if the change in its tone of voice was anything to go by. Though she couldn't understand a word it uttered, she could feel it urging her onward toward the strange lights. She got the feeling from the creature/being that if she could only make it that far, her questions would be answered and she could finally have some peace and well deserved rest. Amy pushed her uncertainty and feelings of melancholy to the back of her mind and pressed onward.

Time in this strange, abyss-like landscape seemed to work much like distance in the sense that it was absolutely meaningless and didn't seem to abide by the rules governing the physical world. It seemed to both drag on forever and zip by at the speed of light all at the same time. She could have been there for minutes, days, hours, or even years and it wouldn't have made a difference since even a single second seemed to stretch on for an infinite eternity. Therefore, she wasn't sure how long she'd been ensconced within this seemingly alternate reality when the first strains of a familiar voice seemed to break into her conscious awareness.

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Waking wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. Fighting through layers and layers of dense fog, the act of simply opening her eyes seemed to take a monumental effort. She felt heavy and sluggish, like she was swimming through a thick, viscous soup that slowed her down and sapped her strength. Her head was muddled and she felt a strange, unsettling aura of detachment from her physical body, as if she were somehow floating high above herself and viewing everything from an elevated distance. This separation of awareness from the vessel that housed it was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It was almost enough to make her wish to be back in the odd other world of her dreams where at least she didn't feel like she'd been split in two.

Almost.

The voice was becoming louder, demanding, even as she could hear heavy footfalls carrying it away. It refused to be ignored. She knew this voice and it's no-nonsense, authoritative tone. As she slowly came back into focus within her body, she could also feel a familiar, comforting presence off to her side. There was a cool, soothing, wetness across her forehead and the reassuring, repetitive sensation of something being raked slowly through her hair over and over again. With no small measure of strength and sheer willpower, she managed to crack her eyes open, immediately regretting it as the stark brightness of her physical surroundings, in such contrast to the black abyss in her mind, caused a sharp stab of pain to shoot straight through her head.

She groaned.

The petting of her hair ceased immediately.

Amy tried again to open her eyes and was rewarded this time as a worried, yet recognizable face slowly swam into clarity. She croaked, "Jazz?"

"D," Jazz had been beside himself with concern but his relief at seeing the woman wake shown plainly on his face. "Thank Primus," the mech's vocalizer cracked, "Ya scared me half ta death, scraplet. How are ya feelin'?"

Amy tried to take stock of her current condition as best she could. She was tired and felt as though she were moving in slow motion. Her thought process was still a bit sluggish. She wasn't in any pain, per se, but the warm buzzing she typically felt in her chest was now a torrid, resonate, reverberation that made her feel as though her ribs were knocking together. It wasn't just inside her chest, though. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. She couldn't ever remember feeling so hot. It wasn't a feverish hot…it was more of a stifling, radiating heat that seemed to originate deep in the core of her being, rising up to seep out from her every pore. It was oppressive, almost suffocating. Not even the blessedly cool wash cloth someone had taken the time to lay across her forehead did much to alleviate her discomfort.

She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry as a desert even as sweat poured from her. She was soaked through with it, she realized. At some point someone, how she prayed it hadn't been one of the Autobots, had stripped her nude and she'd been changed into a paper thin hospital gown. The normally light, billowy material was plastered to her body with moisture. She tried to move and felt a pinch and tug at her arm. An IV catheter was embedded into the crook of her left elbow. Her eyes followed the tubing up to where a bag of chilled saline hung in what appeared to be an attempt at both rehydrating and cooling her down.

Amy tried to moisten her exceedingly parched lips but her tongue was just as dry as they were. It scraped along her bottom lip like a piece of rough sandpaper. "Hot," she managed to whisper.

"I know scraplet. I'm sorry," Jazz removed the damp cloth from her forehead before momentarily replacing it with a freshly cooled one. He helped her to sit up slightly and pressed a bottle of cold water to her lips.

Amy gulped the water gratefully.

Jazz explained, "You were freezin' cold when they brought ya in. Ratchet had to basically give ya a jumpstart." The mech chuckled in equal parts worry and relief as he lowered the woman back to the berth. "Guess it worked a little too well...kinda knocked ya up into overdrive. He says you'll be fine once the energon starts to burn its way outta your system. We just gotta keep ya cool till then, that's all."

"Energon?" Amy's brows furrowed in confusion. Her mind drifted back to the strange cubes she'd seen Sideswipe and Sunstreaker drinking. Why in the world would she have it in her system?

Jazz frowned, "Do ya remember anything?"

Amy thought for a moment and then shook her head. "No, not really. I…" she sighed, "I remember leaving the bunker and heading toward the barracks. I was really tired…Mirage offered me a ride. Once I got to my room I got into bed." She bit her lip, "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were supposed to call…"

"Yeah," Jazz's frown deepened. "Listen, scraplet, about the twins-"

Suddenly, the med bay doors slammed open and the pair were interrupted as the CMO strode purposefully back into the space. Whatever Jazz had been about to say was drowned out by Ratchet's hurried, authoritative tone.

"Seal off that line and immobilize that joint! What? No! I don't care how you do it! Plug it with your finger if you have to!"

It dawned on Amy that his was the voice she'd heard in her dream. He was speaking with someone, over comm she assumed, given she could only hear one side of the conversation. She thought the mech looked harried, more so than usual, his faceplates tight and drawn together in what could only be interpreted as worry. As she continued to listen, sense of dread began to bubble in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. She knew it with every fiber of her being. His next words only cemented the feeling.

"Forward me your system status checks and damage assessments." Ratchet paid the other two occupants of the space little attention as he began rummaging through the med bay's supply closet and pulling out gear. "I swear, I can't leave any of you to your own devices for any length of time without you trying to get yourselves killed…"

Amy looked to Jazz for answers, "What's happening?"

The mech sighed, the pressurized hiss of air escaping his intakes, as he ran one hand over the top of her sweat-soaked hair. "The guys hit a little snag pickin' up the shard."

"A snag?" Worry flooded Amy's face. "What kind of snag?"

The mech opened his mouth to answer but was again interrupted.

"Jazz!"

Frowning, the TIC turned to the CMO, "Yeah, doc?"

The medic stalked over to the berth, "Prime and Prowl need you in the Ops Center ASAP. The final casualty reports are coming in from the field as we speak."

"I'm on my way." Jazz nodded, giving Amy one final, long look. "Behave yourself, scraplet. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Amy's eyes widened in concern as she watched Jazz limp out of the med bay. "Casualty reports? Why are we receiving casualty reports?" She looked up to the medic. "What the hell is going on? What did I miss?"

"Miss Doe," Ratchet greeted as he approached, totally ignoring her question. "I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Amy tried to sit up, "I'd feel a lot better if I knew what was happening? What's going on at Fort Knox? Jazz said there was an issue with the shard…"

"Please, refrain from too much movement. It took me forever to get the energon to saline ratio just right. Too much energy expenditure could upset the balance and I'd have to start all over. Believe me when I say that neither of us want that." Ratchet gently pressed the woman back down into a supine position with a single finger. "I need you to remain as calm and relaxed as possible. What's happening at the moment is not your concern."

"Not my concern?" Frustrated, Amy tried to push the medic's offending digit away to no avail. "I'm Ops! Incident management is part of my job!"

"Actually," the medic smirked, "for the time being, it isn't. You're my patient, under my care, and you can consider yourself relieved of duty until I deem you're fit enough to return."

"What?" If Amy was frustrated before, now she was livid. "You can't do that, Ratchet!"

"I can," Ratchet disagreed. "And I did. Now," he continued patiently and as-a-matter-of-factly, "I'll tell you the exact same thing I tell Jazz when he gets his wires all crossed about limited duty restrictions. You have two options. One, you can follow my orders, relax and recover while we get a handle on things or two, you can continue to try argue with me and I'll be forced to sedate you. I'd rather not have to go with the second option but, the choice is entirely your's."

Amy felt the first prickling of fear. She'd been around the mech enough by now to know that his threats, though made out of a strong sense of duty for the well-being of those under his care, were seldom hollow. She tried a different tactic. "But…can't you get in trouble for this? I mean, I'm not Cybertronian. I thought you weren't allowed to practice medicine on humans."

Ratchet made an amused noise. "You, my dear girl, became the exception to that rule the moment the Twin Terrors decided to take an interest in you. I won't tell if you won't. Besides," the CMO gave a slight shrug, "where else are you going to go? The base medical clinic? Good luck with that. I've seen what passes for medicine on this planet. Even worse, I've seen what humans are capable of doing, even to each other, when something escapes their immediate understanding. Try explaining to them that you've undergone an intimate, irrevocable exchange of life force with a couple robotic aliens from the other side of the cosmos and that their lack of physical proximity is currently making you ill. I'm certain that would go over well for all parties involved."

"Right," she croaked. She honestly hadn't thought about that aspect of her predicament. Now that she had, however, disturbing images of secret, government-run laboratories and inhumane science experiments involving not only herself but the bots as unwilling test subjects, as well, filled her imagination. Nightmare fuel, for sure. Her eyes burned and her head made a hollow 'thunk' sound as she dropped it back down onto the berth.

"I don't tell you this to cause you any worry." Ratchet eyed the young woman, his gaze full of both sympathy and concern. His voice softened, "Believe me when I say that we only have the best interests of yourself and the twins at heart. Granted, this isn't an ideal situation but we've certainly overcome worse." Ratchet smiled at the woman. "This, too, shall pass. Everything is going to be just fine. Now, please, be still and relax."

"The twins." She swallowed the lump of worry that was quickly forming in her throat. "Can you at least tell me if they're okay?"

"They're fine." His answer was short and terse as adjusted the IV setup. "Well enough to still be a pain in my aft half a world away."

The clipped, aloof response didn't set well with her. Her eyes narrowed and she tried to rise once again. "Please," she pressed the mech once more, "I'm serious, Ratchet…"

"So am I," the medic huffed as he gently forced the woman down once again. "Be still."

"I can't 'be still'," she insisted. "Not until I know what's happening! Just…tell me what's going on and I promise to behave."

"Stubborn femme," the CMO groused as he paused to key information into the woman's medical record. "Fine," he vented as he laid his data pad aside. "If you absolutely must know, it appears the Decepticons have somehow gotten wind of the existence of the Allspark shard and attempted to intercept it as it was being loaded for transport."

"D-Deceptions?" Despite the intense heat her body continued to radiate, Amy felt as though a torrent of ice water had been set loose in her veins. She could feel the blood drain from her face. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of a Decepticon during her time at Diego Garcia but she'd certainly heard the scuttlebutt from both Autobot and human alike and she'd attributed the opposing faction an almost boogeyman-like status in her mind.

"The team managed to thwart the attempt and send them scurrying back to wherever they came from. Of course," Ratchet snorted, "that just means they'll coming crawling back out of their hole at some point to try again. They're nothing if not persistent."

Persistent wasn't even that half of it, she knew. She'd been able to piece together that their's was a cruel and sadistic faction, caring not for anyone's safety or wellbeing other than their own and even that was subject to debate. They craved power, regardless of the cost it took to get it, and left a swath of destruction in their wake. Their own planet, Cybertron, had been rendered more or less uninhabitable due in large part to their thirst for conquest. Earth and its plentiful cache of natural resources was next in their list, it seemed. They hurt people for no other reason than that they could. She had never asked outright but through overheard snippets of conversation she knew at least one of them was responsible for Jazz's current condition.

In Amy's experience, Jazz was one of the most considerate and compassionate beings she'd ever met. He'd been nothing but kind and accommodating since her arrival on the island. He was always there with a ready smile and a good natured joke or two to lighten the mood. He'd gone well above and beyond anything she'd ever expected from a superior officer, or anyone for that matter, treating her with a tender and almost familial care that she wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve. In her twenty years of existence, he'd been the very first person to ever make her feel welcome and wanted, like she wasn't just an extra obligation or undesirable responsibility. For that reason, she cherished greatly the friendship they'd built with one another and felt as though his presence filled a void she hadn't known she'd had in her life. She couldn't imagine Jazz not being there.

She'd felt safe in the little, isolated bubble that was Diego Garcia. It was easy to forget that the sole reason for her reassignment had been to help guard against enemy incursions. She surprised even herself, given the rough start, at how settled she felt, how secure. It due mostly, she knew, to the steadfastness of the company she kept. Now, all of that could be in jeopardy and there was little she could do to prevent it. If they could nearly kill, arguably, one of the nicest people Amy had ever had the pleasure to meet without a second thought or care, what else were the Decepticons capable of? Would they hesitate to maim others she'd grown close to and cared for? Prowl? The perpetually grumpy CMO? Sunstreaker and Sideswipe—two beings who were now so engrained and entwined into her life that even being apart from them made her physically sick?

She could feel the old, familiar creep of panic and helplessness slither up her spine. Forces beyond her control were once again rearing their ugly heads, threatening to uproot what little stability she'd gained but it was different this time. This time there was much more at stake than just a place to lay her head at night. For the first time in her life, she had people that she cared deeply about...people, dare she say, that she loved...and the danger to them was very, very real. The thought of losing any of them to this most recent upheaval caused a lance of fear to slice straight through her.

"No," she choked. A cold, hollowness forced the writhing heat out of her chest and a heaviness, like an icy stone settled in her stomach, chilling her. Despite the many, many promises that she'd made to herself over the years to never cry over her circumstances, she could feel her resolve crumbling. Her dry, red eyes stung and burned as tears began to fill them. She hiccoughed as the first of many slipped from the corner of her eye to run down her cheek.

That was all it had taken. It was as if a dam had suddenly burst. Ugly, ragged sobs seemed to well up from the very center of her being. All the emotions she'd kept buried her whole life came bubbling to the surface in a chorus of gut-wrenching, heart-rending wailing. Once it had started, Amy found that she couldn't stop it. She was at the mercy of her feelings of preemptive mourning.

Ratchet was startled by the sudden outburst. He'd expected upset and concern, certainly, especially given the woman's closeness to the twins. It was the very reason he hadn't wanted her to learn of what had transpired in this manner. Her health was his first and foremost concern and he hadn't been untruthful when he'd told her extraneous activity could adversely affect the delicate balance he'd struck between her own physiology and the foreign energy that resided within her. He hadn't, however, expected a complete emotional breakdown.

Then again, he reasoned, he really shouldn't have been so surprised. Given the immense stress and strain of the entire situation, they should have all been grateful the femme was holding up as well as she was under the circumstances. He supposed she'd earned a good cry. The only thing he could do was try to console her, as awkward of a prospect as that was. Humans were small and fragile, rendering the methods he would have used to calm and comfort one of his own kind nearly useless. He found himself wishing he hadn't sent Jazz away. The TIC had an uncanny knack for always knowing just what to say and how to say it in order to diffuse a situation. It was a skill Ratchet could have definitely used at the moment.

"There, there…" Ratchet, not knowing what else to do, tentatively patted the woman on the top of the head with a finger. "I know it doesn't seem like it now but…" he cleared his vocal processor. "Things will get better."

The CMO's words had the exact opposite effect they were intended to have as Amy began to cry even harder. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, whipping her head back and forth in vehement denial of the mech's statement. One of the monitors Ratchet had set up to keep an eye on the woman's condition began to beep insistently, a signal that her cellular metabolism was once again becoming unstable.

The mech cursed under his breath.

"Miss Doe," he started as he rummaged through a subspace compartment, pulling out a vial of liquid and a human-sized syringe. "You're understandably out of sorts at the moment and that is perfectly normal given the circumstances. In the interest of your health, however, I think it may be best if you went back to sleep and rested for a while, at least until your metabolic system has stabilized and the energon has a chance to process out of your system. I'm going to give you a little something to help you do so."

"No!" Fear filled Amy's eyes as she wrenched her hands away from them. "Pl-please, no…I can't sleep, Ratchet. I need," she sniffled, "I need to-to do s-something. I can't just lay here. I need to work! I want t-to help!"

"And you can do that," Ratchet gently scolded, "by resting and getting well. You're all wound up and the only thing that is going to get you is ill again. That, I cannot allow. Jazz is worrying himself sick about you as it is, and don't even get me started on the twins. You'll feel much better when you wake."

Amy tried again to protest but the CMO was faster than she gave him credit for. No sooner had she opened her mouth did she feel a cold numbness flow into her veins from whatever concoction he had injected into her IV line. The medication circulated quickly through her system, aided by her rapidly beating heart. The strange fog she'd felt upon waking began to settle over her once more. Her eyes grew heavy and time, at least from her perspective, began to slow and warp.

She had just enough awareness to register when Jazz hurriedly limped back into the room. She could hear Ratchet speaking to him in a rapid, computerized cadence she couldn't decipher. She could discern the worry on the smaller mech's face plates as he once again took up his post at her side, his strangely soothing fingers once again raking through her sweaty, tousled hair in gentle strokes. He was speaking to her but her brain refused to convert the syllables into words she could understand. She felt extraordinary heavy and tired. She blinked and found that her eyes refused to open. Once again, she was enveloped by darkness.

 **End of Chapter 33**


	34. Chapter 34

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 34**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! OMG, you guys. I was shooting for 4K words and obviously went way over. I've got so many story notes and plot points that it's easy to get carried away. FYI...I'm not from Kentucky but Google is my friend, lol. I know I promised you answers about Amy's past but that has been bumped to the next chapter. Your patience with me is greatly appreciated. I want to take the time to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story, follow it, add it to faves, and especially review. I love hearing from you guys! Hugs to my most recent reviewers: SunnyandSidesFemme17, adelphe24, Anonymous, malkah5967, KayleeChiara, monkeybaby, poppycakes, jgoss, SolusPrimeLightblast, Akgheera, Guest, Sorana3, Lurking Reader, the everchanging, ElleGirl19, PepperCornPie, BarricadesDemon216, and Pixiekatt.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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Awakening for the second time was somewhat easier. The heaviness was gone but the strange feeling of being separated from her body persisted for a long moment before the world slowly swam back into focus and she felt like a single entity once more. The first thing she noticed, as her bleary eyes blinked up toward the ceiling, was that she was no longer in the med bay proper for everyone to observe and admire. Instead, she'd been moved off to the side and into a smaller alcove-like area that had been sectioned off from the main space by a set of floor-to-ceiling sliding partitions that had the ability to obscure the area from the rest of the med bay. It was, for all intents and purposes, the closest thing to a private room that you could get under the circumstances. The area was dim except for a soft blue glow and a single overhead light that burned in the far corner giving off a dull yellow aura.

The second thing she noticed was that she no longer felt as though she were smoldering alive inside of her skin. She'd been transferred into an actual human-sized hospital bed and was comfortably warm, snuggled beneath a thin white sheet and a light yellow comforter. As she mentally took stock of her current condition, she noted that the IV line had been removed and in its place there was a cotton ball stuck to the inside of her elbow with a piece of adhesive tape. She'd been changed from her sweaty hospital gown into a pair of light blue cotton pajamas.

Again, she cringed, wondering exactly who'd changed her and hoped against hope that it hadn't been an Autobot. In her mind's eye she envisioned a positively humiliating scenario in which Ratchet attempted to dress her as if she were some kind of limp, human-sized Barbie doll that flopped around all over the place as he turned her this way and that while trying to put her clothes on. Aside from that bit of mental mortification, she wasn't consciously aware of any actual physical aches or pains. Actually, if it weren't for the fact that she was lying in a hospital bed, she'd venture to say that she actually felt better than she had since the twins left. She definitely felt more emotionally stable, at any rate. She mulled that over for a moment as she became aware of a third detail concerning her current predicament.

She wasn't alone.

Amy's brow furrowed as she carefully pushed herself up into a seated position. She blinked at the figure across the room and her brow furrowed. "Monroe?"

The man was sitting in a metal folding chair across the room with his legs stretched out and his feet propped up in another. He looked relaxed, decked out in a pair of loose jeans and an oversized, grey Adidas hoodie. His gaze was fixed on the source of the blue glow- a small television mounted on the wall upon which an old black and white episode of 'I Love Lucy' played out with the volume turned way down low. Monroe chuckled at something on the screen before reaching for the remote and switching the television off, plunging the room into a soft, semi-darkness.

"Hey, OS2," the man greeted in obvious relief as he turned his chair around to face her bed. He grinned, albeit awkwardly, hooked his thumb over his shoulder, and joked, "If they're going to have people laid up in here, they could at least get some Netflix in this joint. I don't know how they stand it, man, just sitting around watching ancient reruns between missions and shit. I'd lose my damn mind."

Amy smiled back tiredly, tapped the side of her head with her index finger and shared, "I've been told they can stream movies directly off the internet and into their brain."

Monroe went wide eyed and his mouth hung open slightly. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not," Amy chuckled as she adjusted the bed and settled back against the pillows. Curious, she studied the man for a moment before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"You're my shipmate." Monroe shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck in an embarrassed fashion, "I was worried, ya know?"

Amy shook her head. "You could have fooled me. You've been avoiding me like the plague lately."

"Yeah..." Monroe shifted, distinctly uncomfortable. "About that. Look, I'm really sorry, Doe. I really am..."

"Okay," She looked at him, questioning, "Do I at least get an explanation for why you run away and hide every time I try to talk to you? I know we haven't known each other long but I thought we were friends."

"We are," Monroe insisted. "It's a long story."

Amy gestured around herself, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Right," Monroe sighed. "Guess I do kinda owe you an explanation, huh?"

"It would be nice," Amy agreed.

"Alright, look," he began, "A couple of the guys I worked with noticed that we'd been hanging around together a lot and, well, you've been in long enough to know how guys talk when we get together. We like to bullshit. And...I might have said some things..."

Amy raised an incredulous brow, "What kinds of things?"

"Nothing like what you're thinking," Monroe quickly corrected. "Just that I think you're a really cool chick and fun to hang out with."

"Okay," Amy looked confused. "So why all the duck and cover?"

"One of the big guys got it all twisted." Monroe shuddered. "He thought I was being disrespectful and more or less threatened to turn me inside out if I so much as looked at you wrong."

"What?" Though Amy didn't like the idea of being the subject of anyone's conversation, she also knew that threatening someone with bodily harm went against conduct codes of leadership. "Who? Why didn't you report them to the chain of command?"

"Chain of command?" Monroe scoffed at the woman. "If you think I'm about to go talk face-to-face with the King of the Semis about my little altercation with Death on Wheels, you've lost your damn mind."

"King of the—Optimus Prime?" Amy's eyes widened in understanding. "One of the Autobots threatened you? Like, actually threatened you?"

Monroe nodded, "He was dead ass serious about it, too."

Amy felt dread well up in her chest. She almost hated to ask but she knew she had to. She swallowed thickly, "Which one?"

"The one that looks like he'd just as soon step on you as to look at you. The yellow one." Monroe shrugged, "I'm not on a first name basis with those things like you are. Honestly, I try to avoid them as much as possible."

A heavy breath huffed out of Amy's lungs. There were only two yellow Cybertronians that she knew of and she certainly couldn't envision Bumblebee doing anything of the sort. On the other hand, she herself had been on the receiving end of another certain mech's vitriol and knew firsthand how terrifying it could be. "Sunstreaker," she murmured.

"That's the one," Monroe nodded in agreement. "Death on Wheels."

"But," Amy shook her head. "Why would he do that? I mean, I don't think he'd really..."

"Well, no offense, OS2," Monroe chuckled nervously. "But I'd rather not take any chances, if ya know what I mean."

"We're on friendly terms," she cautiously admitted, unsure of how much it was safe to reveal. "I could talk to him if you want."

"What? No!" Monroe paled. "Please, just don't say anything about it, alright? I don't want to piss him off anymore than I already have. I'm begging you, just let it go. Please, OS2..."

Amy looked at him for a long moment. Honestly, she didn't need any more drama in her life right now. She also didn't appreciate needless, ongoing animosity. She'd worry about it once she got out of the med bay and things settled down and returned to normal. She'd let it go, at least for now. She sighed, "Fine. Have it your way."

"Thank you," Monroe settled back in his chair, relaxing once again, and immediately changed the subject. "So, how are you feeling? You definitely look better than when I helped them lug your ass out of your room."

It was Amy's turn to look in wide-eyed wonder, "You?"

"You don't remember?"

Amy shook her head, "No, not really. Things are...pretty fuzzy."

The man chuckled, relieved. "That's probably for the best. But yeah," he nodded. "The Second in Command and the Doctor caught me outside the barracks and asked me to go up and check on you because you hadn't been answering your phone. Honestly, when I got up there, I thought you looked like a fucking corpse."

"Well, I've definitely felt better," Amy cautiously admitted. "I've also felt worse so I guess that's an improvement."

"Do they have any idea what made you sick?" Monroe leaned in close and lowered his voice, "It wasn't from when that other robot shocked you, was it? Or, you know, radiation poisoning?"

Amy shrugged, "I've been pretty out of it. I haven't really had a chance to ask. To be honest, I don't even know what day it is. Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to know how long I've been in here, would you? I've kind of lost track of time."

"Yeah," Monroe nodded, "It's been about a week."

"A week?!" Amy sat up straight, an acute sense of panic beginning to set in. How was that even possible? What the hell had Ratchet put in her IV? Her last conscious thoughts prior to being sedated had been filled with worry for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker after learning of Decepticon involvement with their mission. They had only been slated to be gone three or four days and she'd been unconscious for an entire week?! God only knew what had transpired during that time. The mechs could be hurt or worse and she wouldn't be any the wiser.

Maybe that was the point, an apprehensive voice within her subconscious whispered. Maybe they had met some tragic end at the hands of the Decepticons just as Jazz almost had. Instead of breaking the news to her, they'd chosen to render her unconscious instead. For what purpose? To spare her pain? To avoid having to deal with an emotionally fragile human in the throws of grief? Simply because they could? A compelling need to know the truth came over her. She needed to talk to someone...Jazz, Ratchet, Prowl. Hell, she'd even march her way into Optimus Prime's office to get the answers she needed if that's what it took.

"Hey, hey, hey," Monroe rose from his chair and tried to stop Amy as she started shrugging off her blankets in a frantic attempt to get out of bed. "Let's not do that, OS2. You're gonna piss off the doctor and I don't get paid enough to put up with that kind of shit. Did you know he's got a goddamn circular saw stashed in his wrist? A fucking circular saw, Doe. I ain't about that life..."

"A week, Monroe! An entire week!"

"I know, I know," he tried to calm the woman. "Look, let's just wait for Jazz to come back, alright? He's actually pretty cool and doesn't make me want to piss myself every time he gets close. He can explain everything and if anyone can bust you out of here, it'd be him."

Despite her worry and anxiousness, Amy settled, only slightly. If she were perfectly honest, aside from the twins, Jazz was the one person she most wanted to see. "Where is he?"

"He's been here with you, mostly. I ain't totally convinced about this whole alien robots on Earth thing but that guy really seems to care about you. Only person to ever fuss over me as much as he's fussed over you is my moms." Warily, Monroe dragged his chair closer to the side of the hospital bed and tentatively sat back down. "He's the one that convinced the others to let me in here to see you. They were pretty dead set against you having any visitors but he insisted. About ten minutes before you woke up he hustled on out. Said something about having to run interference and minimize the fallout. He asked me to stay with you till he got back. He didn't want you to be alone if you woke up."

Amy loathed the feeling of uselessness that hung over her in her current state but felt her heart warm at hearing of Jazz's care and concern. She knew she'd said it before but it was worth saying again. No one had ever bothered with her before. At least, no more than their obligations imposed by the Juvenile and Family Court system had required. Jazz, though...he was different. She didn't quite have a name for their relationship. It certainly didn't run the gamut of the typical superior-subordinate relationship. Yes, they were friends, Jazz had said as much, but that didn't quite feel right either. Regardless, she supposed waiting for him to return was better than having Ratchet knock her out again for another week. She sighed once again and leaned back against the pillows, "Running interference for what?"

"Didn't say," Monroe shrugged. "He left out in a hurry, though. It's been a rough week."

"Yeah," Amy agreed, gnawing on her lip. "Do...do you know what's going on? With the mission the team went on?"

"That's not really my area of expertise." Monroe offered the woman a tentative smile, "I jam radio frequencies for a living." Noting the somewhat distraught look on her face, he quickly offered, "I'm sure everything worked out. This place is more or less business as usual. If anything serious had gone down, there'd be plenty of scuttlebutt flying around."

Amy's fingers twisted her sheets worriedly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Monroe had proceeded to catch her up on base happenings, accounting for the week she'd been out of commission the best he could. He didn't have any details regarding the latest mission which really shouldn't have been too surprising as certain information was only shared on a need-to-know basis. It wasn't long after that, however, that the med bay doors slammed open with a resounding crash, startling both occupants inside of the small alcove. The partitions blocked their view of the rest of the med bay but they did nothing to muffle the sound of the CMO's authoritative tone.

"For Primus' sake, he's leaking all over my clean floor! Get him over to the berth," Ratchet barked. "I swear, at your age, you of all mechs should've known better..."

The deep, resonate grumble that answered the medic's scolding could have only been made by one mech and if he was here that meant...

"They're back!"

With little regard for Monroe's frantic attempts to keep her docile and in bed, Amy practically climbed over the man in her haste to escape. She was unsteady on her feet, not surprising for someone who'd spent the better part of a week flat on her back in a hospital bed. Still, she managed to make it to the gap in the partitions that had been left just wide enough for a human to pass through. Squeezing her way through to the other side, Amy stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening and a hand flying up to her mouth in shock.

Ironhide lumbered slowly through the med bay, his black armor pockmarked with what looked like large, gaping bullet holes about the size of her fist. Droplets of light pink fluid were left splattered all over the floor in his wake, standing out starkly against the pale gray concrete of the floor. Bumblebee followed closely behind the mech. He, too, looked much worse for the wear. The entire left side of his body that she could see was scraped up to the point where the bright yellow of his paint job had given way to the shiny, silver metal beneath. It reminded Amy of the time she'd gone down to the ship's med department to get a cold pack. While she'd been down there, they'd brought in a member of the flight deck crew that had been blown down by jet exhaust and had come literally face-to-face with the non-skid. The poor guy had looked as if he'd been attacked with a cheese grater. The memory made Amy shudder.

The scout had one of his fingers pressed deeply into one of the holes at the junction of Ironhide's arm and left shoulder. A closer inspection revealed said hole to be the source of the fluid leak. Bumblebee trailed gingerly after the mech, taking care not to step in any of the viscous-looking liquid that dripped to the ground. Once they'd reach the berth, the young scout had gratefully relinquished his duty, stepping quickly away to allow Ratchet to inspect the wound.

Heart in her throat, her eyes went immediately back to the med bay doors. One minute ticked by, then two before her silent prayers were answered. Amy couldn't believe the overwhelming relief she felt when she saw Sunstreaker and Sideswipe slowly bringing up the rear. Jazz accompanied them and the three seemed to be engaged in a deep, serious conversation. She couldn't understand a single word being said as they carried on in their native language but it didn't matter. They were back and they were safe. She'd missed them even more that she realized.

Her joy was short lived, however, as she was able to take in their current condition. Sideswipe's position allowed her to get a clear view of what looked like four deep gouge marks slashed across the expanse of his chest plating and down over his abdomen. At least some of the gouges had been leaking that same pink fluid Ironhide had trailed through the med bay. It had been smeared down the plating of his lower abdomen and across his upper thighs. It had dried on his armor giving the silver plating a strange, oily-looking sheen. Amy thought he looked as though he'd been mauled by a giant bear.

The silver mech kept his usual mischievous grin in place, however, and didn't seem to be in too much discomfort. He broke away from Jazz and his brother, rolling over to where Bee stood and clapped the younger mech jovially on the back. The sound of metal clanging against metal filled the med bay.

"Great job, Bee," Sides ribbed the younger bot. "Way to keep Old Cast Iron up on his feet."

Bumblebee shot the silver front line a withering look before hauling himself up onto one of the berths and collapsing onto his back in apparent exhaustion.

Sunstreaker, on the other hand, was still engaged in conversation with the TIC. Jazz seemed to be doing all the talking while Sunny glowered down at him with a malcontented expression. She was so used to seeing the mech looking polished and pristine that the scuffs and scapes that marred the usual glossy liquid shine of his bright yellow armor seemed to stand out even more. It was nothing, however, to the shock she felt as Jazz shifted out of the way revealing ugly, black scorch marks all down Sunstreaker's right arm, across his chest, and down the outside of his right thigh. It looked as though someone had taken a blow torch to him and even from a distance she could see the paint beneath had bubbled and lifted under the heat.

Amy couldn't help the pained gasp that escaped from between her lips and immediately all heads swiveled in her direction.

"Aw, shit," Monroe cursed. He'd ventured out after Doe and ended up in the middle of the last place he'd ever want to be. He definitely wasn't getting paid enough for this. He nudged the woman "I'm out, OS2. Glad you're feeling better but...you know how it is."

Before Amy could even say a word, Monroe was already booking it towards the door. She didn't miss the way Sunstreaker's optics narrowed as he watched the man disappear from sight.

"Ames!" Sideswipe's face had lit up as his optics fell upon the woman. He rolled closer, dropping to his knees and opening his arms wide in expectant invitation. "Primus, we've missed you."

Sideswipe's joyful exclamation broke through Amy's initial shock at seeing the state the mechs had come back in and the suddenness of her shipmate's departure. Without hesitation, she moved toward him. Stepping into the circle of his arms, she did her best to return the gesture but only barely managing to span the breadth of his chest while being mindful of his injuries. He didn't seem to mind her inability to return a proper embrace as a contented sound rumbled from his vocal processor.

"I really missed this," he whispered just loud enough that she could hear.

"You're here," Amy murmured in incredulous disbelief. "You're both really here. You came back."

"Of course we did, Squishie. We're not going anywhere."

Amy turned her head to look at Sunstreaker. She blushed slightly and offered him a relieved smile. She wanted to throw her arms around him as well just to prove to herself that he really was there but the mech stood stiffly, hands clenched into fists at his sides. She mentally noted that a couple of his knuckles appeared to be cracked and that same pink liquid seemed to have congealed in the joints of his fingers. As he gazed at her with a perturbed look plastered on his face, Amy's smile faltered.

"We're so, so sorry," Sideswipe apologetically gushed, pulling the woman's attention away from his twin. He'd wrapped his arms around her carefully, crushing her against his chest plates in a mech-sized bear hug. "You have no idea how worried we've been about you when we couldn't reach you. We were trying so hard to get back here but the mission turned into a slagging mess. The Decepticons decided they needed their afts beat back down into the Pit again. The plane we were supposed to fly back on ended up being ripped in half at some point. It was pretty funny watching Sunny club Starscream in the face over and over with a piece of the wing, though."

"I don't think that fragger found it quite as amusing as we did," Sunstreaker provided in a dark tone.

Sides chuckled, unfazed by his brother's attitude, and nuzzled the top of the woman's head. "The powers that be got their tailpipes all in a twist about secure airspace so they made us drive ten and a half hours to the naval base out in Norfolk. Then we had to wait there for a Marine squadron to fly up from Cherry Point and escort a COD we managed to hitch a ride on. Talk about a cramped, uncomfortable trip. It was the worst." The mech sighed, "I can't tell you how glad we are to be home."

"Me, too," Amy pressed herself more tightly against the mech's scraped up armor. Already she felt amazingly better than she had since they'd left. Their very presence seemed to wash over her in a soothing wave. She admitted, "I missed you guys."

"We never intended to be gone this long or for you to end up in here." He continued in apology. "If we'd known we would have never left."

She was just happy to have them back. As far as she was concerned, her stay in the med bay was irrelevant as long as they were alright. Amy mumbled against Sides' chest plates, "It's okay."

"No," Sunstreaker growled, in disagreement. "It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay."

For a moment, Amy feared it was something she'd done to anger the yellow front liner. Perhaps, she supposed, it was her apparent fragility, her inability to be left alone even for a couple days so that they could carry on with their own lives. Honestly, the thought disturbed her, as well. The last thing she wanted to be was an anchor tied around their necks, dragging them down with her, interfering in what had seemed to be a comfortable existence with each other. That is, until Sunny rounded on the CMO with a vicious snarl that, even though she hadn't been on the receiving end, sent her instinctively burrowing deeper into Sideswipe's embrace for safety.

"How did this happen," Sunstreaker demanded. "You're the one that cleared this mission! You said she'd be fine and there was nothing to worry about! That's the only reason we agreed to go on this slagging trip in the first place! Then Jazz calls us back to say she's in a fragging coma?!"

"She wasn't in a coma," Ratchet hastily corrected. "It was more of an extreme metabolic depression. Furthermore," the CMO continued, "there was nothing prior to your departure that would have suggested a reaction of this type. All the tests I ran came back within normal limits. There was no way of knowing-"

"Really? No way of knowing?" Sunny got right up in the mechs face, body tense. "Tell me, Hatchet. What else don't you fragging know?"

"Easy, Sunny." Jazz physically inserted himself between the two mechs, trying to restore some calm. "Ratchet's doin' the best he can under the circumstances. No one saw this coming but you're here now and as far as we can tell, she's gonna be just fine. That's what's important. Now, you can stand here wastin' yer time yellin' at Ratch or you can go over there and greet your femme properly."

Sunstreaker glared coldly down at the smaller mech. His lip plates curled up into a sneer. Ratchet's best hadn't been nearly good enough to suit him and Jazz, of all mechs, was going to defend him? Sunny had the urge to tear into him, as well. He'd also placed his stamp of approval on the outing and was, at least in his optics, partially responsible for the outcome. Venomous words danced on the tip of his glossa, threatening to spew forth in a profanity-laced tirade. That was, until he finally saw through his haze of anger and noticed the look of tired, tense worry that mingled with cautious relief that the TIC wore. It was easy to see that the mech had gotten little to no rest for at least the last few days, a potentially harmful situation for one in his current state of disrepair.

As close and tangled up as he and Sides were with the femme, it was easy to forget that they weren't the only ones with a vested interest in her wellbeing. Jazz, too, shared a close bond with the woman. A bond which, if Sunstreaker were honest, he was thankful for. If he or Sides couldn't be with her, he could think of no one else he'd rather have watching over her in their absence. He bit back his heated retort and backed off slightly.

He was, however, unwilling to drop the subject completely until his primary concern was addressed. He jabbed a finger in the TIC's direction and growled, "I'm only saying this once. This isn't happening again."

Jazz put up no argument, merely nodded in agreement. "Prime, Prowl, and myself have gone over Ratchet's medical recommendations and this is being addressed as we speak." He assured the angry mech, "It won't happen again."

Sunstreaker glowered at the mech for another long moment before retreating over to where his brother still knelt with Amy. Fury coursed through his lines but also relief. He'd never before found himself in a position that had made him feel so helpless before. He hated it with every bolt in his body. He and Sides being so far away and unable to do anything to help the situation had left him more rattled than he'd ever admit to. He gave the woman a careful once over. She looked tired but, then again, she always looked tired. Otherwise, she seemed no worse off than when they'd left her.

Sunny moved into a crouch next to his brother, "How you feeling, Squishie?"

"Better," Amy quietly whispered.

'Good," he rumbled. "Get over here."

Sideswipe relinquished his hold on the woman and rocked back on his wheels, giving her a gentle nudge in his brother's direction as he did so.

Amy stepped to Sunstreaker, fitting her self into his left side and avoiding the scorch marks on his armor. She offered no resistance as the mechs fingers trailed over her from head to toe, seemingly checking her over for any sign of damage not immediately visible to the naked eye before his hand wrapped itself around her shoulders and pressed her closer. Amy felt a rush of warm air flow over her as he released what almost seemed to her to be a deep breath he'd been holding.

Ratchet cleared his vocal processor, "I hate to interrupt but if you'd like to have a seat I'll get you two checked out and you can be on your way. I'm sure you're both more than eager for a decent recharge."

Sunny threw the CMO a dark look but only hesitated for a moment. He and Sides were both filthy and exhausted. His plates itched and all he really wanted to do was scrub himself clean and collapse onto his berth, preferably with the femme close enough they could keep an optic on her. He still wasn't pleased with the handling of the situation but as Jazz had pointed out, there were more important things to worry about at the moment. So long as the situation was being seriously addressed, and Sunny had no reason to doubt Jazz's word as the mech had never lied to him before, he'd go along with whatever Ratchet wanted, at least for the time being.

"Come on, Squishie."

Amy let out a startled squeak as Sunstreaker stood suddenly, bringing her up with him. The sudden absence of solid ground beneath her feet had her fingers scrabbling for purchase against his chest plates. They found their grip in a small groove in his armor between what would have been his pectoral muscle and his collar bone had he been human. In three large strides, Sunny brought them to the remaining empty medical berth and gently plopped her down atop it, amused by the quiet 'oof" sound she made.

Giving the woman one final once over, Sunstreaker settled himself beside her. "Let's get this over with, Hatchet."

"Keep you armor on," Ratchet grumbled as he dug extra supplies out of the closet.

"So..." Sideswipe ambled over to the berth, as well. "Is Ames free to go? With us?"

Ratchet grunted as her dropped his armload of equipment onto an instrument table and began to organize it. "We'll see."

"The Pit is that supposed to mean?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"It means, we'll see." Ratchet shook his head, "Theoretically, you're being here should have resolved the issue but there are tests I'd like to run first just to be sure nothing was overlooked that could be a problem later."

Sunny made a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh but nodded his head in understanding just the same. "Fine."

Sideswipe made a sound of disappointment but then noticed how crestfallen Amy looked. She seemed small and fragile which, he reminded himself, she was in comparison. He couldn't imagine what all this must be like for her. She'd come to Diego Garcia to do a job and had been sucked up into this strange whirlwind of life altering events. She'd had things thrown at her that would have probably made anyone else run and hide, yet she'd been steadfast through it all. It was, in his optics, a testament to the type of person she was and they owed her greatly for that. He and Sunny would find a way to pay her back but right now all he really wanted was to see her smile.

"Before I forget..." Sideswipe settled himself on the berth as well, sandwiching Amy between himself and his brother. "I brought you back a souvenir."

Amy blinked up at him, still a bit in shock that they were actually there. "A souvenir?"

"Well, yeah," Sideswipe confirmed as he grinned. "You don't actually think I'd go somewhere and not bring something back for you, do you? What kind of mech do you think I am?" He glanced at his brother, "Sunny has something for you, too, but you'll have to wait for it. It's still a work in progress."

Amy cut a curious eye toward the other twin. Sunstreaker still didn't look especially happy but he looked much less tense than he had when he'd entered the room. He looked down at her, one brow plate minutely quirked and his gaze softening ever so slightly. It was the best she would get from him under the circumstances. It wasn't much but she got the gist of what he was trying to say. She'd just have to wait and see whatever it was, he wasn't going to tell her.

With a nod of understanding, she reached to pat the back of Sunstreaker's hand where he clenched the side of the berth. Mindful of his battered knuckles, she gently caressed her fingers over the nearly invisible seams there. It was as much to reassure herself that he was there as it was a confirmation of her understanding. Before she'd even realized what was happening, the mech released his hold on the berth and captured her fingers with his own, giving them a careful squeeze before letting them go and grasping the berth's edge once again.

She turned her attention back to Sides as Ratchet began to examine the extent of the yellow front liner's damage.

"Here you go, sweetspark," Sideswipe produced a small, square box from somewhere in subspace and presented it to the woman. "I know it isn't anything fancy, but..." The mech shrugged. He seemed almost nervous. "I thought you might like it..."

Amy smiled as she accepted the package, more appreciative of his thoughtfulness than he'd ever truly know. She'd seldom ever received gifts. Those she had received were usually of the generic variety with very little personal thought put into them. Just looking at the box cradled in her hands, however, she could see that a lot of care had been put into it. Whatever it was- it could have been a rock he'd picked up off the side of the road for all she cared- it was chosen with her specifically in mind and she would no doubt love whatever she found inside.

She turned the package over in her hands. It wasn't terribly large, perhaps six inches square, but it was heavy. The box had been wrapped neatly in pretty, light blue paper patterned with small, red and white polka dots and then tied with a red ribbon that had been fluffed into a big, fancy-looking bow. It was almost too pretty to open. As she looked it over, she couldn't help but remember the conversation she'd had with Prowl not so long ago regarding the return of Galloway's gift wrapped movie projector.

Curious, Amy asked, "Did you wrap this yourself?"

"Nah," Sideswipe chuckled. "Sunny helped me out with that part. He's way better at all that artsy-crafty stuff than I am."

"Really?" Surprised, Amy looked looked back to Sunstreaker. "You wrapped this?"

"Sunny's a mech of many talents," Sideswipe teased.

"Yeah, so?" The yellow twin gave a snort of amusement, "Are you going to open it or not, Squishie?"

"I am," Amy affirmed, "It's just..."

Sunstreaker eyed the woman, "What?"

"Nothing," Amy shook her head, a smile playing on her lips as she envisioned the battle-hardened mech doing something as domestic and mundane as wrapping a present...for her of all people. "It's nothing. Never mind."

With care for the effort put forth in wrapping her gift, Amy delicately removed the ribbon and picked the tape loose with her nails, freeing the box within from the paper. Setting the paper to the side, she settled a small, white, cardboard box in her lap. She looked up to Sideswipe, getting a soft smile and an encouraging nod in return. Taking a deep breath, Amy turned her attention back to the box and lifted the lid.

"Oh, wow," she breathed. Amy lifted her prize from its box, amazed at how such a small gesture could mean so much, and turned it over in her hands. A gleeful smile lit her face, "It's a snow globe!"

The glass dome set atop a wooden base that had been varnished to give it a warm, glossy glow. Engraved upon the base in a large curvaceous script was the state name of 'Kentucky'. Below that, in slightly smaller script, was the state nickname, 'The Bluegrass State'. Nestled within the glass a small figurine of a grazing chestnut mare stood inside of a pasture next to her foal. When Amy tipped the globe, small pieces of black and yellow glitter pressed into the shape of daisies swirled about the pair.

Amy's life had never lent itself to frivolous comforts or extraneous possessions. The only thing she'd ever really owned were literally the clothes on her back and later, whatever essentials she could fit within her seabag. This, though, was something special, and she knew exactly where to put it. She hugged the snow globe to her chest.

Anxiously, Sideswipe asked, "Do you like it?"

"Yes, I do," Amy confirmed, beaming up at the mech. "Very much. Thank you."

"It plays music, too," Sideswipe offered helpfully, tapping the dome with his index finger. "There's a windup key on the back."

Curiously, Amy turned the globe over and, sure enough, there was a small windup key on the base. Her fingers moved automatically, grasping the small metal protrusion and giving it a couple turns before releasing it. As she did so, the first notes of 'My Old Kentucky Home' came tinkling out as if being played on a very small piano. It made Amy's smile widen even more.

"This is great," Amy laughed. "I love it."

"I'm glad," Sideswipe spoke quietly. "We know this hasn't been easy, especially on your end." The mech vented, "We just want you to be happy, sweet spark. That's all."

"I am," Amy admitted just as quietly. It was true, she realized with a start. At that very moment in time she was the happiest she could ever remember being. Despite the nagging inkling of dread that realization also brought with it, she hoped against hope that things would remain thus.

 **End of Chapter 34**


	35. Chapter 35

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 35**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all doing fabulous on this wonderful day. So happy to be getting this chapter out there. It turned into another extra, extra long chapter...hopefully not too long for you. The first half is really just a catch up to current plot events so I hope it doesn't bore you too much. I hope it answers at least some of your questions...more to come so stand by. Regardless, I sincerely hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who has faved and followed. I'm so happy to have you along for the ride. Special thanks to my wonderful reviewers: Songbird's Spirit, monkeybaby, CamaroLady, SunnyandSidesFemme17, 'Guest', 'Anonymous', KayleeChiara, LaurenA007, Deimoss, adelphe24, TerrorTwinEpicness, Akgheera, gummibear78906, PepperCornPie, ElleGirl19, shelby20125, the former jojoniles who shall henceforth be known as TheHeizeEffect, xIliadx, SolusPrimeLightblast, jellybeanz513, Pixiekatt, poppycakes, and TheCauldron.**

 **You are loved!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy strode through the main hangar trying to project more professional confidence than she currently felt. She kept her head held high and shoulders back. Her hair was neatly combed and pinned into a bun, her uniform was freshly laundered and pressed, and her boots were buffed to a shine she was sure would get an 'outstanding' if an inspection were to be held at that very moment. A carefully prepared report on the status and security of the Allspark shard was nestled in a manila folder and tucked beneath her left arm as she made her way to the morning muster/meeting with Captain Lennox in lieu of Jazz who was on his way to an officer's meeting with Prime. It was business as usual.

Or, at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

She'd been eager to get back to duty but doing so had proved more daunting than she'd expected. Ratchet's tests had ended up being a complete medical battery of labs and imaging that had left her feeling more like a science experiment than anything else. It had also meant that she'd ended up spending an extra two days and a wake up in the med bay while the CMO poked and prodded her to his spark's content. The mech was nothing if not thorough and he wasn't going to be taken by surprise with some exotic ailment again if he could help it.

It hadn't been all bad, though. She'd been in good company at least.

Jazz, of course, had been there often. Not only was he dealing with his own medical issues, the extent of which Amy hadn't fully understood until witnessing first hand what he went through every single day just to stay upright and functional, but he also took extra time just to spend it with her to make sure she was doing okay under the stress and strain. His care and concern always seemed so genuine and she would have been lying if she didn't admit there was a part of her still starved for such affection that she'd been deprived of as a child that ate up every morsel of kindness he tossed her way.

He'd brought her a tablet preloaded with music and movies he thought she'd enjoy to help pass the time between bouts of testing which she'd greatly appreciated. He'd also joke with her about how glad he was Ratchet had someone else to focus on for the time being since it took some of the heat off of himself. She supposed he'd become something of a rock in the midst of the chaos that had engulfed her. He'd stopped constantly hovering over her, however, as he seemed to understand there were others who needed her attention far more than he did and vice versa.

That said, the twins didn't wander far despite Ratchet's vain attempts to shoo them out of his way. Initially, once the shock of their arrival had worn off, Amy had been extremely concerned about the injuries they'd each sustained. Once they'd gone and scrubbed themselves clean, each taking their turn hitting the wash racks so as not to leave her on her own, she could clearly see the extent of the damage done to them, some of which she hadn't even noticed before due to the dirt and grime they'd accumulated. It looked painful and it hurt her deeply to see them hurt. Both the twins and Ratchet, however, had assured her that the damage was mostly cosmetic in nature.

"We know what we're doing, Squishie." Sunstreaker smirked, "And we're the best at doing it."

"Yeah, you should have seen the other guy, sweet spark," Sideswipe had teased, giving her a wink. "This is nothing."

Ratchet had gone on to rattle something off about automated repair subroutines, microscopic nano particles and molecular turnover rates all which had completely gone over her head but she took to mean that they would recover from the damage quickly. Indeed, after a bit of minor medical attention courtesy of the esteemed CMO, a good wash and wax, and a night or two of well deserved recharge, Amy was hard pressed to find a scratch on either of them. It boggled her mind, really, the rate at which they were able to mend themselves. She'd never seen anything like it.

Ironhide, on the other hand, had not been as fortunate. The large holes in his armor had apparently been made by some sort of high-velocity energy weapon fired at long range. It had provided enough punch to go through his heavy, black armor and caused damage to what Ratchet had referred to as a 'protoform'. It was apparently more than the soldier's own systems were capable of repairing on their own and would require more invasive measures to fix. The medic's attitude led her to believe that it was all in a day's work where the Weapon Specialist was concerned. He'd simply vented, ordered the mech to 'strip', and had gone to gather the needed equipment to tend the wounds.

Amy had tried not to stare. Honestly, she had. Intellectually, she knew the Autobots weren't really automobiles. Sideswipe had once described the transformation process to her as a sort of camouflage. Still, she'd not given too much thought to what they'd look like without the aid of said camouflage. Even though she was mostly certain they probably hadn't strolled the streets of Cybertron decked out in Goodyear tires and halogen headlights, it was beyond bizarre to see the bulky, canon-toting mech free of any type of heavy armor and reduced to the much sleeker, but certainly no less imposing, 'protoform' that lay beneath it all. She'd watched, wide-eyed, as Ratchet had gotten underway with his repairs, fascinated, as she tried to envision what the others would look like in the same stripped down state. That is, until Ironhide seemed to become aware of the weight of her stare.

"What?" He'd asked in his typical gruff tone. The mech's brow plates had raised in question even as his mouth had pulled down into a frown.

Startled, Amy had whipped her head back and forth in the negative. She'd managed to squeak out a quick, "N-nothing...sorry," before quickly scurrying back across the med bay to where Sunstreaker sat perched upon a stool carefully buffing his glossy, freshly waxed armor with a microfiber cloth. In her mind, it was the safest place in the world to be at that moment. Sunny must have agreed with her assessment as she had found herself plucked from the ground so suddenly it had made her head spin only to be deposited upon the mech's armored thigh just as quickly.

As she'd sat there, awkwardly straddling Sunny's leg, she became aware of the tension that seemed to rest heavy in the air between the two mechs. Sunstreaker glared at Ironhide, as if daring him to speak another word to her. Ironhide, to his credit, had the decency to look not-quite-apologetic before being the first to look away. Sunstreaker had seemed to relax, if only slightly, the thumb of his left hand stroking slowly down the length of her spine a couple of times before he picked up his cloth once more and resumed his polishing as if nothing had transpired. Amy hadn't asked what the deal between them had been. Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

The rest of her time in the med bay had been rather uneventful.

On the morning of the third day in the med bay, Ratchet had informed her that he had exhausted all possible testing and that she was free to go, at least for the time being. He'd given her a technical rundown of what he'd learned about her condition. Amy was an intelligent young woman but far from a scientist. She certainly wasn't up to speed on molecular biology but she was able to grasp that what he'd learned had proved his initial hypothesis. Her body had somehow adapted to the invasion of an alien energy by opting to utilize the much more efficient fuel source it now had at its disposal instead of its own. He'd gone on about spark core force fields and electromagnetic fluctuations, none of which she really comprehended but his next statement worked to put her somewhat at ease.

"It's my professional opinion that you're going to be just fine," Ratchet declared with a proud look. "However," he warned, "If you notice anything, and I do mean anything, out of the ordinary you are to bring yourself back here ASAP. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Amy had readily agreed. "Does this mean I'm FFD?"

"Yes," Ratchet had chuckled, amused by the woman's eagerness to return to work. She was nothing if not industrious. It was a quality to be admired. "You may consider yourself reinstated. Just don't stray too far from the twins."

Amy had been too excited at the prospect of escaping her temporary prison to question exactly what all of this had meant for her. She just wanted to get back to her life, to her job. "I won't," she promised.

Receiving Ratchet's blessing to return to work and convincing Jazz she was ready and willing to resume her duties were two totally different obstacles, however.

"I don't know, scraplet," Jazz stood, leaning back against his desk, a worried look plastered on his face plates as he looked down on the woman. "I mean, Ratchet just released ya. Don't ya think it might be a good idea to take it easy for a couple days and rest? Ya know, regain your strength?"

"Jazz," Amy all but begged. "I've been taking it easy for over a week! I need to do something productive! I know you know how that is..."

Jazz frowned, knowing she had him there. There was no question that he'd been less than a model patient since the stunt he'd pulled with Megatron to buy time for the rest of the team to complete their mission. Primus knew the time he'd spent sitting in the med bay afterward feeling like a half-slagged, useless pile of scrap metal had nearly killed him. He tried a different approach, looking for allies in his quest to keep the femme safe and healthy. "Where's Sides an' Sunny?"

She'd shrugged, "I told them I was coming here to see you so they went back to their room to stow their gear finally. Why?"

"Because," Jazz vented, trying to get the femme to see reason, "as much as I worry about ya, they got a lot riding on you bein' well, too, scraplet. If anything happened..."

"I'm fine," she'd insisted, pouting. "I'm really, really fine. Ratchet said so. You can ask him if you don't believe me. Comm him or something. I really need to get back into some kind of routine. I'm begging you. Please, Jazz? Pretty, pretty please..."

After a long moment, the mech finally relented. He'd shaken his head, chuckling. "How can I possibly say no to that face? I'll make a deal with ya," Jazz relented. "I've got a meeting later this morning with Prime and Prowler to discuss some logistical issues that have popped up. If everyone is in agreement and all goes well, we'll see about putting you back to work."

Amy started to argue, "But..."

"Let me finish," Jazz gently scolded. "Until that time, if ya wanna go get yourself all squared away and come back, I'll get ya all caught up on everything ya missed. Deal?"

"Yes!" Amy beamed up at the mech. "Deal!" On impulse, she took a couple steps forward and closed the distance between them. Wrapping her arms around his left leg, her head just barely breaching his knee, and gave him the best hug she could muster. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best!"

"Aww..." Jazz smiled and felt his spark warm pleasantly at the unsolicited show of affection. He bent slightly to ruffle the woman's hair, trying to convey his own fondness for her, as well. "Right back at ya, scraplet. Now go on," he encouraged. "Get outta here. Go make yourself presentable. I'll be here when you get back."

Jazz had watched the young woman hurry from the office with a strange mix of affection, worry, and relief settled deep in his chest. He'd certainly gotten more than he'd bargained for when he'd pulled her from her previous command...and he wouldn't have changed it for all of Cybertron. He'd settled back down at his desk with an amused grin. "Kids..." he'd hummed to himself. "Gotta love 'em."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Upon her return to the bunker, uniformed and freshly groomed, Amy had found Jazz waiting for her just as he said he would be. She'd listened attentively as he'd recapped the last week for her, filling in many of the gaps in her recollection. He'd started with Sunstreaker's comm asking him to check up on her, recounted the altercation the team had with the Decepticons, and caught her up right through the time the twins had walked through the med bay doors. Then, of course, there was the mysterious Allspark shard that had set off the entire chain of events. He explained a bit more about what the Allspark was and what it was capable of doing...what they had learned, anyway. For all they knew about the relic and it's powers, much was still shrouded in mystery.

Jazz finally asked, "Do you want to see it?"

Mouth dry, Amy nodded, "Yes. I mean, if you think it's okay."

She'd followed the mech as he'd led her to what had once been a storeroom in the very back of the bunker. The track door had been replaced with a thick blast door. A heavy feeling of nervous anticipation settled into her gut as she watched Jazz run the security checks and key in the access code. Goosebumps rose on the skin of her arms and her hair stood on end as the door locks disengaged. The anxiousness she felt magnified tenfold as Jazz pulled the door open and motioned for her to enter.

She hadn't know what to expect as she stepped inside, feeling herself be engulfed by an electric, almost staticky aura that seemed to push and pull against her skin as if it were searching for something. She felt briefly lightheaded, almost the same strange sensation of being disconnected from her body that she'd experienced upon waking in the med bay but it passed quickly. Instead of worrying about potential lingering side effects, she noted it was much, much colder in the room than it had been in the corridor, so much so that she could see her breath puff out from between her slightly parted lips in a wispy white cloud. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Her eyes landed on a shiny, new temperature control unit that had been mounted on the wall right inside the door set to a frigid 32 degrees Fahrenheit.

Curious, she asked, "Why so freezing?"

"It puts off a pretty intense energy signature. Humans aren't really sensitive to it but we're able to pick it up on our environmental scans. It's less active at lower temperatures," Jazz explained. "Keeping it cold and underground makes it easier for us to keep it hidden."

Amy nodded in understanding and moved deeper into the space. It wasn't a large area, just big enough that a mech like Prime could move around comfortably without banging into everything and breaking stuff. In the center of the space, there was a metal podium bolted down into the floor. Upon that podium rested what appeared to be a clear, glass cube about two foot square. Floating within some sort of field inside the cube there was a ragged piece of metal-like material just slightly larger than her fist. A white mist swirled around the shard, the result of what she assumed was a liquid nitrogen cooling system or similar setup. The mist made it difficult to decipher but she was certain she could see some kind of runes or glyphs carved into metal.

The overall feeling she got from the object was one of eerie unease. She got the sense, almost, that it was alive and sentient, watching their every move and judging them for it. For such a small and otherwise unassuming looking piece of salvage, it had a tremendous presence. She wasn't sure whether to be awed or terrified. What she did feel for certain was oddly exposed and vulnerable. Without any input from her conscious brain, scooted closer to Jazz for comfort.

"Yeah," Jazz agreed in a slow drawl without her even having to say a word. "I'm thinkin' it's probably best if we just steer clear and let it be."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Amy murmured in response.

"Come on, scraplet," Jazz nudged her back toward the door, seeming to be as eager as she was to leave the space. "Let's head back to the office. I was diggin' around in Teletran's data archives and found some files you might find interesting. How'd you like to hear what popular music sounded like back home on Cybertron?"

"Really?" Amy stepped back out into the corridor and watched as Jazz closed and secured the blast door, sealing the Allspark shard safely inside. Out of its presence, she already felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as the cold, oppressive atmosphere of the containment room was replaced by the warm camaraderie she and Jazz shared. Excitement at getting to share a bit of his culture filled her instead. "That'd be awesome!"

They'd spent the better part of an hour in the office. Jazz had played the music tracks he'd found while enthusiastically explaining to her the meanings and significance behind them. The sound was certainly different and, though mostly electronic in nature, not at all as mechanical and computerized as she would have guessed. Some tracks almost reminded her of downtempo electronica in a way. Others had a more electro pop feel. He'd explained that, prior to the war, there had been places much like dance clubs where mechs and femmes could go and enjoy the music in conjunction with subtle electrical impulses that could deepen and expand the musical experience. Amy had been drawn in not only by the music but also by Jazz's clear love for it regardless of its planet of origin. She could have listened to his insightful commentary on the subject all day.

Eventually, however, Jazz had to leave her to go to his meeting. She'd had a sick, sinking feeling as he'd handed her a manila folder, explaining that it contained recommendations for security upgrades to the containment room and asked her to run it to Captain Lennox in his stead while he was gone. She agreed, always happy to be of help, but couldn't help but ask the question heavy on her mind. In a quiet voice she'd asked, "What's the meeting about?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, scraplet." Jazz spoke in a smooth, soothing voice. "Just layin' down some new rules, is all."

With that, the mech had left her, which brought Amy to her current predicament.

Having been sequestered in the med bay for over a week, most of that time unconscious and with only giant alien robots for company, she felt rather conspicuous as she made her way across the base. As bizarre as it sounded, it felt strange to be out among other humans again. For reasons she couldn't really explain, the bots were easier relate to. Perhaps it was the fact that they were still new to the planet, new to mankind, and lacked any real preconceived notions or expectations regarding who or what a human should be or act like. Experience had taught her that the same couldn't be said for others of her own kind. Robots from space she understood. Her own species, not so much.

Pushing those thoughts out of her head, she focused on the task at hand and made a bee line for Captain Lennox. Putting on a friendly smile and throwing up a sharp salute, she greeted the superior officer, "Good morning, sir."

"Hey, Petty Officer Doe," Lennox greeted the woman as she approached, returning her salute. "Long time, no see. I was beginning to think we'd have to send out a search party. Did you finally finish the database archive project Jazz had you working on? From what he told me, it sounded like a big job."

A look of confusion clouded Amy's face for a moment before it dawned on her what was happening. Jazz had covered for her time spent in the med bay so as not to rouse any suspicion surrounding her absence. Her secret, if one wanted to call it that, was safe. "I did," she answered hesitantly. "It took longer than I thought it would, though."

Lennox inquired, "Find anything useful at least?"

"Yes," she nodded and smiled thinking of the music the mech had been so delighted and excited to share with her. "Definitely some useful data in there."

"Glad to hear," the Captain smiled. He nodded to the file tucked beneath her arm. "Got anything good for me this morning?"

"Uh," Amy smiled, extending the packet of documents towards the Captain. "I hope so. It's a rundown Jazz has prepared of the shard's current security status as well as some suggestions for improvements and upgrades to the existing containment facilities. Those," Amy informed him, "will need to be signed off on for budget approval before we're able to begin implementing them. You know how those politicians can be when it comes to money."

"Don't I ever..." Lennox sighed, probably thinking about Galloway, but nodded in understanding as he shuffled through the documents and skimmed over them. "Everything looks solid. Let's get moving on these upgrades ASAP. The last thing we want is for the Decepticons to be able to track the shard to Diego Garcia and pop up in our backyard. If you want to hang out for a minute I'll go ahead and sign off on these req forms for you so you can go ahead and run them up the supply chain."

"That'd be great," Amy nodded. "Thank you, sir."

As Lennox turned to rummage through his workstation for a pen, Amy turned to survey the hangar. Military personnel and civilian support staff hurried back and forth, swirling around one another in a well-coordinated execution of cooperative teamwork. Spending the vast majority of her working time in the bunker with Jazz and her off duty time with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, it was easy to forget just how many other people helped keep Diego Garcia up and running.

Sweeping her gaze over toward the hangar doors, she noted they were open wide, allowing the early morning light to flood the space and soften the glare from the metal-halide fixtures hanging over head. As she patiently waited, a dark silhouette filled the open doorway, backed by the early morning sun. She immediately recognized the figure as Sunstreaker even before she could clearly make out his gleaming, yellow armor. She felt her stomach do a pleasurable little flip, something it had never done before. Before she could think too much on this new phenomenon, she realized the mech was heading straight for her. She felt heat rise to her face as a knowing smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

Sunstreaker came to a halt just a couple steps from where she stood. He was close enough that she had to crane her neck back to maintain eye contact but not so close as to make it uncomfortable. His smirk widened into an almost devilish grin. Amy felt her mouth go dry.

"Lennox," Sunny greeted the Captain but never took his optics off the woman in front of him.

"Sunstreaker," Lennox replied, still leafing through the packet of paperwork. "What can I do for you?"

The mech rumbled, finally looking toward the soldier. "Prime needs to speak with you in his office."

"Now?" Lennox looked up from the paperwork. "Did he say what for?"

"Yes," Sunny answered looking back to Amy, "and no. I may have some idea about what he wants to discuss but it's not my place to say."

Amy frowned.

"Fine," Lennox sighed, gesturing to the forms now strewn across his workspace. "Just...let me finish this up for the Petty Officer here and I'll head on over."

"Whatever," Sunstreaker quickly lost interest in the Captain, turning his full attention back to the small femme. "Squishie."

"Hi," Amy quietly answered. Her stomach continued to roll in an nervous/excited fashion making her feel not-quite-nauseous.

"I was going to come find you when I was done here," his grin widened. "I think I found something that belongs to you. I thought you might want it back."

Amy's brow furrowed, "Something of mine?"

"Mhmm," the mech smirked. He knelt and stretched his hand out to her. Settled in the center of his palm were two small buttons.

Amy felt herself flush even hotter, then grow pale as she immediately recognized them. "B-buttons?"

"I was putting my gear away and I found them underneath my berth," he explained. His optics glinted in amusement but deep in their depths something dark and heated also flared to life. "I'm pretty sure they popped off of your uniform the other morning. I'd say I'm sorry about that but," he shrugged, "I'm really not."

Amy spluttered, almost choking on her own tongue. She was well aware that the look on his face said he was anything but sorry. She, herself, couldn't muster up any regret over what had transpired right before they'd left either but, of all the places he could have chosen to have this exchange, she couldn't think of anywhere more horrifyingly inappropriate than literally two feet away from N.E.S.T.'s Commanding Officer.

Sunny tilted his head, looking the woman slowly up and down. "Have you ever thought about maybe wearing coveralls instead of BDUs? They look like they'd be much more easily accessible. Might even prevent ruining your uniforms in the future."

He was only half joking. He'd been thinking of how soft the bare skin of her back had been ever since he'd seized the opportunity to touch it. Stumbling upon his brother's sizable collection of 'research' hadn't helped matters. He was a healthy, young mech, after all. He certainly wouldn't have minded the opportunity to get the small femme alone and in private once again. Sideswipe, he was sure, would heartily agree. Besides, he rationalized, Ratchet had ordered he and Sides to remain as close to her as possible in order to combat the unintended side effects of the connection the three of them shared. They'd be doing their duty and if they could have a little fun doing it, it was all the better.

"Th-thanks," she finally forced out as she reached with trembling fingers to pluck the buttons from his hand. She was sure her face must have been colored scarlet. Her stomach did another curious flip. She swallowed hard, "I'll-I'll keep that in mind."

Sunstreaker watched the femme quickly pocket the buttons, finding her nervous embarrassment both entertaining and endearing. Sideswipe was right, he mused. Watching the woman become red-faced and flustered over even the slightest suggestive nuance was fun. He tread carefully, however, well aware that Lennox was standing right beside them. He wanted to tease the woman, not traumatize her. He was in a better mood than he had been over the last week, though, and couldn't resist one last provocative innuendo.

"You could throw on a pair after work," he suggested in a low tone, focusing his gaze on the still barely there marks he'd left on the side of her neck. "The three of us could test them out."

Amy's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, words refusing to come out. The mech was nothing if not blunt. Sideswipe's over-the-top flirtatious antics were nearly scandalous on a good day. She wasn't sure what had gotten into Sunstreaker but hearing these things from him made her brain want to turn into mush. She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or outright mortified.

Lennox cleared his throat. He held the now signed paperwork fisted in one hand and wore a befuddled look on his face as he looked back and forth between the young woman and the mech. "Uh," he pushed the papers towards Doe. "Here you go, OS2."

"Thanks," she stuttered, grabbing the file and clenching it to her chest. She took another tentative glance up at Sunstreaker before looking back to the Captain. "I'll, uh, go ahead and run these."

Sunny offered, "Need a ride?"

She turned her face up to the mech, still embarrassed. "Th-thanks but, after this last week, I think I could probably use the exercise."

Sunstreaker nodded in understanding, "Suit yourself, Squishie. I offered."

Knees still shaking, she quickly saluted the Captain, "Thanks again, sir."

"Yeah...you're welcome." Lennox returned the salute and watched the woman hurry from the hangar before turning on Sunstreaker. "What the hell was that?"

In an indifferent tone, Sunny replied, "What was what?"

"That," Lennox gestured toward the mech, "Whatever that was."

"I don't have a slagging clue what you're talking about, Lennox." The mech twisted his faceplates into a look of disgust, "Then again, I don't know what any of you fleshies are talking about half the time anyway. You're all fragging weird and confusing as the Pit."

"Look who's talking." Lennox mumbled and shook his head. "You know what, never mind. Forget I asked."

"That's probably for the best," Sunstreaker sneered. Then, tapping his wrist with his index finger as if checking a watch he added, "Prime's waiting."

"Yeah, yeah," Lennox nodded and moved to follow the mech as he turned to head back out the way he'd came. "Hey, you think I could get a ride?"

Sunstreaker, without ever breaking his stride, shot the man an offended glare, "Do I look like a fragging Uber to you? Your legs work."

"Asshole," Lennox muttered as he broke into a jog to keep up.

 **XXXXXXXXX**

Amy eventually made it back to the office she shared with Jazz to find that the mech still hadn't returned. It was just as well. Her earlier interaction with Sunstreaker had left her with a residual giddiness that Jazz would have no doubt picked up on only to tease her mercilessly about it. She slowly climbed the stairs to her desk, contemplating how her life had brought her to such a strange place that there were times that she could scarcely believe it herself. Thinking about it too hard made her want to space out.

Sinking down into her chair. She fished the two small buttons out of her pocket and placed them onto the desk in front of her. She looked at them, brow furrowed, and immediately feeling the heat rise to her face once again. Idly, she pushed them around with a fingertip for a moment before moving them to the side, turning her attention instead to the snow globe that now resided on the corner of her desk. Lifting it from its new home, she inverted it before placing it back down and watching the small glitter flowers swirl about inside for a moment then reaching around and winding it. As the first notes of music began to play she folded her hands, resting her chin atop them, and closed her eyes. She wasn't sure how long she remained in that position but it was long after the final strains of the song had finished playing that she was startled back to attention by a light rapping on the office door.

"Hey, Ames? You in there?"

Quickly, she sat up straight and pushed the snow globe back into its corner. She gave herself a quick once over to make sure she still looked presentable before calling back, "Yes, it's open."

The door opened and Sideswipe slipped inside, quietly shutting the door behind himself before making his way over to lean against the railing that surrounded Amy's workspace. He grinned at the woman, "Back to work already?"

"Not officially," Amy sighed. "But I'm hopeful."

"Don't rush it, Ames," The mech gently warned. "You don't want to end up back in the med bay."

"Believe me," she assured, "I'm going to try my very best to avoid it."

"Glad to hear," Sides teased, "because Ratchet kind of puts a damper on date night with his whole 'Guide to Interspecies Copulation' PowerPoint presentation."

"Oh my God," Amy felt herself turn bright red for about the hundredth time that day. "He doesn't really have one of those...does he?"

Sideswipe merely raised a brow.

"Oh my God," she muttered again, sinking back into her chair and wishing a black hole would open up and swallow her whole.

Sides laughed and mercifully changed the subject, "So, what have you been up to?"

"Uh," Amy shook her head, willing the blood to drain from her face. "Nothing much. Just waiting on Jazz to get back. Oh," she remembered the latest addition to her desk and directed Sides' attention to her new ornament, "What do you think? I figured since I spend most of my time in here..."

"It's perfect," Sideswipe smiled, "It's a good start. I'm really glad you like it, sweet spark."

She shot the mech a side glance, "Definitely a lot better than pictures of strangers."

Sides put on his most wounded expression, "I said I was sorry..."

"I know, I know..." Laughing, Amy rose from her seat and stepped over to the rail where the mech stood. Without thinking, she raised a hand and pressed it to the side of his face. "It was the thought that counts."

"Hmm..." Sideswipe nuzzled into her palm. "Good to know...because I think about you a lot..."

Amy felt her stomach do that odd, little flip again. Reluctantly, she dropped her hand. "So, did you need me for something?"

"Always," the mech teased. "I just came from that meeting with Prime and Jazz asked us to meet back here to go over what was discussed. He and Sunny are bringing up the rear. Captain Lennox wasn't too happy so they hung back to see how that all played out."

Amy raised a brow. In a concerned tone she asked, "What exactly was this meeting about?"

"Just some minor operational changes," Sides provided. "It's probably best that Jazz goes over them. You know, chain of command and all that."

"Oh," feeling uneasy, Amy nodded, "Okay..."

About that time, the door to the office opened once more and Sunstreaker stepped inside.

"Hey again, Squishie." He greeted the woman and seeing the flush come to her cheeks once more, smirked in amusement before turning to his brother, "You missed one hell of a blowout. Lennox was pissed."

"He'll get over it," Sides chuckled.

Sunstreaker shrugged as he, too, sauntered over to the railing, "Not like he has much of a choice."

"Seriously," Amy looked between the twins, "what's happening?"

"Something that should have happened from the start." Sunstreaker grumbled, "Took them long enough to pull their heads out of their afts."

Sideswipe nodded, "Agreed."

Hesitantly, Amy asked, "Should...should I be worried?"

"Nope," It was Jazz that answered as he slowly shuffled his way into the room and settled himself on the edge of his desk. "I told ya, D. I always got your back."

"Yeah..." Amy worriedly nibbled her bottom lip. "What exactly were you guys meeting about?"

"As you know," Jazz began, "This last mission ended up causin' quite a few glitches in the program. The least of which," Jazz continued, "was the Cons showin' their ugly mugs. We've come to expect that from them and plan accordingly. What we didn't expect or plan for was the effect the twins leavin' would have on you."

"Right," Amy frowned and pressed her fingers into her temples, already feeling a tension headache building behind her eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, Ames." Sides nudged her, "We're just happy you're okay."

"It's not your fault, Squishie." Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest plates, "Ratchet's the doctor. He's supposed to know these things. That fragger should be the one apologizing."

"No one is to blame here," Jazz corrected, shooting Sunny a warning look. "It's just somethin' that happened and now it needs to be dealt with to prevent it from happenin' again."

"Okay," Amy took a deep breath in, stealing herself for what she knew was to come. "I'm assuming that's what this big meeting was about? Dealing with it?"

Whatever came out of Jazz's mouth, Amy promised herself she wasn't going to let it get to her. She wasn't going to break down and cry just like she hadn't broken down the other two dozen or so times she'd been uprooted and shipped off. At least in this situation she possessed a modicum of professional clarity. She knew was a liability. She was a drain on resources. She diverted valuable time and attention away from more important matters. She wasn't irreplaceable...that she knew from personal experience. She knew in her heart what the right thing to do in this situation was and she couldn't even bring herself to be upset about it. In a military situation, when you run up against an obstacle that impedes the mission or compromises tactical readiness you remove that impediment. By force, if necessary.

"It was...partly," Jazz confirmed. "After analyzing all our options, we've decided that the best course of action in this situation is to pull Sides an' Sunny from the mission rotation for now. They'll be assigned strictly to base support duties from here on out which means they get to stay here with you until we can figure out all the in's and out's to this whole human-Cybertronian spark thing."

"What?" Amy's head shot up. The look on her face was one of absolute confusion and surprise. "You're pulling them from the mission roster? Why?"

"Why?" Sunstreaker raised a brow plate. "Did you seriously miss the part where Ratchet said you could have died while we were gone?"

"I don't understand," Amy looked to Jazz. "You need them out there! If that's how you guys want to play it, why can't Ratchet just do the same thing he did this time with the IV fluids?"

"Scraplet," the TIC tried to explain, "it's dangerous. Humans aren't meant to carry spark energy let alone be pumped full of energon. Ratchet wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't do more harm than good this time around. He's sill worried about side effects that could pop up later. We took a gamble on it because we had no other option at the time but it's not a viable solution in the long term."

Amy felt like yanking her hair out, "And pulling your two best front line soldiers out of the field is?" She argued, "Prowl said this wouldn't affect combat readiness!"

"Prowl said we'd revisit the issue when more information was available," Jazz spoke gently. "Now that he's got the data, he's crunched the numbers, and statistically this is the safest option for everyone."

"For me, you mean?" Amy shook her head, disbelieving. "I've messed everything up..."

Sunstreaker rumbled, "You haven't messed anything up."

"This is supposed to be a good thing, sweet spark." Sideswipe frowned, "We thought you'd be happier to have us around."

"No!" Amy quickly backpedaled her words at the hurt expression that flashed across Sides' face. "I meant, yes...ideally, but there's a war going on out there! You can't prioritize the needs of one single individual over the success of an entire military campaign! That's not how you win the battle. The last thing I want is for you to be out there in harm's way but from a logistical and operational standpoint this makes absolutely no sense!"

"Maybe not to you, D," Jazz explained. "But this isn't a decision we made lightly. A lot of thought and planning went into makin' it and Prime, Prowl, and myself are all in agreement that this is the best course of action to take in this situation. There's a whole list of other factors we took into consideration other than just the obvious. I know it may be hard for you to understand the logic behind it seein' that you're not one of us-"

"Exactly!" Amy could feel hurt, frustrated tears burning in her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. "That's exactly my point! I'm not one of you! I'm just one person out of over seven billion people on this planet! I'm not out there on the front lines dodging bullets. I sit in front of a freaking computer all day! It would make a whole hell of a lot more sense to just replace me. Find someone else with the same skill set. It's not that difficult! There are plenty of other people who could do my job and wouldn't interfere with tactical coordination."

"None of those people are you," Sunstreaker stubbornly argued. "That's not happening."

"Just..." Sideswipe tried to reason with the femme. "Forget about us for a second, Ames. Primus knows we adore you, Jazz does too, but take us out of the equation. Think of all the other people in your life that care about you, how spark broken they'd be if something happened to you. And if there was something we could easily prevent from happening just by being here with you, why wouldn't we do that?"

"Because it's completely counterproductive to the cause," Amy laughed but there was no humor in it. "If your big concern is upsetting friends and family then let me put your minds at ease. I could drop dead right now and not one single person would give a shit."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed at the woman, "That's a load of slag and you know it."

"Do I?" Amy's voice cracked. "My own parents didn't even want me. When I was born, they left me in the fucking garbage for someone else to come along and find. I grew up in state-run group homes and foster care whose sole purpose is just to keep you alive and breathing until you turn eighteen and they can throw you out on your own." Amy jerked one of her sleeves up as far as it would go, revealing a couple of the small, circular scars that dotted her arms. "They couldn't even care less when a grown man holds a little girl down and burns her with lit cigarettes because she won't just lay still and let him take advantage of her. They just show up, dump what few possessions you do have into a trash bag, and pack you off to the next hell hole to start the cycle all over again so I highly doubt they'd start giving a damn now."

"Scraplet..." Jazz looked horrified, as if he couldn't quite parse the information he'd just received.

Amy wanted to stop but the words just kept coming. She was sick over the entire situation. She felt so angry and frustrated and guilty that a small part of her thought that if she could just make them see that she wasn't worth the effort or the trouble that everything could go back to the way they had been, when things were simple and she knew her place in life. She was expendable. She didn't want to be responsible for wrecking their one real chance at winning a war that had been going on for God only knew how long. Death, even a slow and uncomfortable one by Ratchet's calculations, was preferable to the potential of damning an entire planet full of people to the whims and desires of the Decepticons.

"Do any you even know what Doe means?" Amy asked the question, not even expecting an answer. "It's just a generic name they give to people when they don't know what else to call them. It's just something they can put on the paperwork to make everything look official. I don't even know who I am and no one has ever bothered to come forward and claim me. So, no, no one is going to come banging on your door demanding to know what happened to me or petition the government for answers because there is nobody. Save yourselves all the trouble and send me back where I came from. It won't be the worst thing that's ever happened to me and I promise it won't hurt my feelings. Problem solved."

The office was eerily quiet for a long moment. The only sound Amy could hear was the whoosh of blood in her ears as her heart pounded away furiously inside of her chest. She was staring at the toes of her boots but she could feel their optics on her. She couldn't bring herself to look up and see the pity she knew would be there. She didn't want pity. She wanted to be a productive member of the team and that couldn't happen if she was there holding the twins back from doing what they were there to do. The only recourse she could see was to remove herself from the picture entirely and this was the only way she knew how to do that.

It was Sunstreaker who finally broke the silence. He snarled, demanding, "Who was it? Who did that to you? All I need is a name. Tell me who they are and I can guarantee you the cogsucker won't have the opportunity to do it again."

Amy answered in a quiet voice, "It doesn't matter."

"The frag it doesn't matter!" The mech was livid. "They put their hands on you! They hurt you!"

Amy merely shook her head and with as much dignity as she could muster, grabbed her cover from her desk and put it on before turning to make her way down the stairs to the floor below. She needed to get out before she broke her own rules and started bawling her eyes out in front of the three of them.

"I asked you a question," Sunny growled as his optics tracked her down the stairs. "Where in the Pit do you think you're going?"

"Noon muster," she lied. It wasn't her duty day and she knew Jazz knew it as well as she did. Hell, the mech hadn't even officially invited her to come back to work. At the rate she was going, she doubted he ever would. She half expected him to call her out on the fib but instead what she received was a softly spoken request that was almost her undoing.

"Stay, scraplet." Jazz pleaded with her. "Don't leave it like this. Let's talk it out."

"I can't," she sniffled as she edged closer to the exit. "There's nothing else to say."

"Ames...sweet spark, please..." Sideswipe wore an absolutely heartbroken expression. He tried to reach for the woman but she twisted out of his reach as she scooted by on her way toward the door.

"Don't," she warned the mech. "Just...leave me alone."

He may have said something else but Amy hadn't stayed around to listen. As soon as she cleared the office door she moved as quickly as she could down the corridor, keyed her way through the secure blast door, and out into the common area. She kept her focus on reaching the elevator even though she could hear two sets of heavy footsteps gaining ground behind her. By the time she reached the elevator and was frantically slapping the button, they were calling out for her to stop, to wait, to come back. Once the doors rolled open and she slipped inside the first tear managed to finally overflow down her cheek. She wiped furiously at it as she punched the arrow to take her back up to the surface. The last thing she heard as the car began its upward trek to the surface was Sunstreaker's rather impressive litany of profanity as the doors rolled shut again, sealing them out just as they reached them.

On the way up she turned the situation over in her head again and again. No matter which way she looked at it, she always came up with the same solution. A sacrifice would need to be made. She knew what the right thing to do was and if they wouldn't do it, she would.

 **End of Chapter 35**


	36. Chapter 36

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 36**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! When I first had this idea pop in my head and decided to jot it all down and share it, I thought there may be a couple other people that might dig it but you guys have totally blown me away! So, thanks so much to all who've faved and are following. So happy you're here with us! To my reviewers, you know I love you! Hugs to SwordOfTheJedi, JessieBWriting, shapeshifterlover, SunnyandSidesFemme17, KayleeChiara, TheCauldron, KHandFF7fanforever, 'Anonymous', Sirenix Prime, jellybeanz513, LaurenA007, The Whispering Sage, adelphe24, monkeybaby, Songbird's Spirit, 'Guest', Alice Gone Madd, SolusPrimeLightblast, PepperCornPie, Leonixon, shizzlethis1, poppycakes, o-dragon, xIliadx, OPPoptart, jgoss, Tai Prime, Quickening, rybkakoi, BarricadesDemon216, .Princess, TheHeizeEffect, Jaxrond, shizzlethis1**

 **P.S. Sorry! This turned into a two-parter so if the ending feels abrupt, that's why. This chapter turned into a MONSTER! Stay tuned!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy traversed the base quickly. After narrowly avoiding another run-in with Mirage, she stuck to the less traveled paths, slipping between buildings and circling around to the back side of the base complex. The last thing she needed was more of the infiltrator's commentary on her mess of a life even as their last interaction still prickled at the back of her mind. Her cell phone buzzed against her hip nearly non-stop. She paused long enough to fish it from her pocket and look at the screen just an incoming call from Sideswipe disconnected. The display informed her that she had a total of seventeen missed calls and twelve voice mails in just the last twenty minutes. She sighed and was just about to shove the offensive electronic back where it came from when it began vibrating in her hand once again.

"Shit," Amy cursed at seeing Jazz's name pop up on the caller ID this time around. Fumbling for the power button with trembling fingers, she turned the device off before pocketing it once again. She stood there for a moment with her eyes closed, willing with all her might for the entire unfortunate situation to just go away. When she opened her eyes again, however, everything still remained the same. Everything still hurt. Everything was still wrong. Everything was still her fault.

Taking in a shaky breath, she began moving once again. She wasn't as familiar with this area of the base but she managed to find what she was looking for. There was already a shuttle idling at the curb waiting to take passengers back to the other side of the island when she reached the stop. Feeling more dejected than she could remember feeling in a very long time, she climbed on board and made her way to the very back. Ignoring curious looks from the other passengers, she found an empty space and settled into it.

As the small bus lurched out of its parking space and into the street, Amy curled up in her seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. For all the effort she'd put into trying to overcome the life she'd been dealt, she could feel herself slipping back into the mind state of the scared little girl she'd once been. She knew there was no one to blame but herself. She'd let her guard down and had allowed herself to become comfortable, not to mention vulnerable. She'd known better and still let herself become entirely too emotionally involved. In return, she'd single-handedly sabotaged an entire military operation, perhaps the most important military operation in the history of the planet.

For what? So she could pretend for a few moments that she wasn't completely alone in the world? That there were people, from another planet nonetheless, that actually thought she was someone worth knowing? That she had some sort of intrinsic value that, up until now, had been entirely overlooked? That someone could like her, perhaps even love her, simply as she was? That, for once, someone would choose her and not someone else? It was an absolutely ridiculous childhood fantasy that she'd believed she'd purged herself of long ago and it had no place in her current situation. She was an adult now with adult responsibilities and there was no room for childish wishes.

Still, she could vividly remember sitting in Family Court time after time, waiting for her case to be called before the judge to find out where she would be shipped off to next after yet another failed placement. Her assigned social worker would barely acknowledge her presence other than to shoot her the occasional annoyed glance as if being there with her took her away from something else she'd much rather be doing instead. Amy would watch as the parade of other children before her were reunited with joyful, tearful parents or adopted into loving forever homes. She'd watch and she'd wonder what made the others so worthy and deserving and she so obviously not. What she wouldn't have given to trade places with any one of them. Was she that broken, she ask herself? That unlovable?

When it was finally her turn, she'd be made to sit there and listen as they spoke about her as if she wasn't even there. She'd sit there, all her meager worldly possessions sitting next to her inside of a black trash bag and feeling like garbage herself as they went on and on about how she was difficult and troubled, unmanageable, and unwanted. She took every biting comment to heart, believing with all her soul that she must be the problem. The horrible things done to her would be glossed over, merely a footnote in the court's records, as if the actions perpetrated against her were somehow less heinous since she had no one there to be outraged on her behalf. She didn't belong anywhere or to anyone. No one cared for or comforted her. She was completely alone.

When she'd been very young, she used to pray every night to God, asking Him with all her heart to send her a mommy or a daddy who would come and whisk her away to a happy home somewhere far away from the life she was living. She'd faithfully written letters to Santa Claus every year until she was eight, asking for a family of her own instead of Christmas presents, not that she ever received anything worthy of such a trade. Following the cigarette incident, in desperation, she'd even penned a letter in purple crayon and slipped it beneath her pillow with a baby tooth she'd had knocked out of her head asking the Tooth Fairy for any help she could provide. The next morning the letter had still been there, unopened and untouched, right along with her tooth. Apparently, even her teeth were worthless.

After a while she'd stopped praying. She'd stopped crying. She'd stopped asking for help. She began simply going through the motions. Another court hearing. Another foster home or stint at a group facility. Even the callous treatment and occasional abuse suffered at the hands of the strangers tasked to care for her ceased to outwardly move her, even though inside she could feel herself die a little more each time. She stopped living and started simply surviving, counting the years, the months, and days until she could make her escape out into the world. She'd eventually found the navy and with it had come the opportunity to distance herself from her past and maybe even salvage a semblance of a life for herself.

Then, she'd been uprooted once again and sent to Diego Garcia.

Amy could feel the tears begin to gather in her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. She'd been sent to N.E.S.T. to carry out a specific job, a specific function. She'd prided herself on her professionalism, her ability to perform her duties and perform them well and without distraction. Somewhere between her last command and this one she'd gone terribly off the rails. She'd been sucked in by Jazz and his easy, affable promise of companionship and the twins and the oddly affectionate connection they believed they shared with her. They'd made it all seem so easy, as if all she'd had to do was just show up to be instantly accepted into their little ragtag group of Autobots, no matter that she was human. She'd been blinded by the strange improbability of the situation she'd found herself in and had lost sight of her purpose. As the shuttle arrived at its stop on the other side of the base, Amy promised herself that it wouldn't happen again.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

There were about a million different things going through Jazz's processor. Nearly all of those thoughts somehow revolved around the small, human femme he'd taken into his care of his own accord. He'd long since suspected that the young woman was burdened by a troubled past but never in a million millennia would he have suspected something of such awful magnitude. Observations he'd made, small idiosyncrasies he'd made note of...they all suddenly clicked into place and the picture they formed didn't please him in the least. In fact, he found the sickening revelation horrifying to a degree he hadn't realized possible.

It was unfathomable to him the cruelty humans were capable of visiting upon the least of their race. Though, it shouldn't have been entirely surprising. As Prime had pointed out on more than one occasion, outward appearances aside, humans weren't much different than they. They were capable of great deeds and selfless kindness, but also cold, callous brutality and depravity. Amy's revelation, however, felt more like a personal affront. He felt almost as if the universe was rubbing his nose in it, as the humans would say, showing him the cost of his own shortcomings and failures. It left his spark feeling like a cold, lead ball sitting heavy inside of his chest. He was weighed down by guilt, feeling as though he, somehow, had personally failed her in her greatest time of need.

As he limped his way slowly from building to building, optics skimming over the humans present for any sign of the one he'd all but claimed as his own, he cursed his current infirmity. Had he ever believed he'd be in his present situation he may have made a different tactical decision back in Mission City. Urgency drove him forward but his body was unable to keep up to the degree needed. With an impatient sigh, he stopped and opened a comm channel and felt his spark constrict a bit more when it failed to ring through to its intended destination, instead going straight to voicemail.

"Scraplet..." Jazz begged, "Please, when ya get this message, call me. Come back to the office or I can meet ya somewhere. Whatever you want. We need ta talk and...and I need ta know you're okay. If ya don't want to talk to me then, please, call the twins. I'm worried about ya, kiddo."

It had been such an incredibly long time since Jazz had had anyone to worry about other than himself. It was strange, he thought, the way the mind and spark could so easily and comfortably slip back into certain patterns of thought and behavior after being bereft for so long. He chose not to dwell on the losses he'd suffered, however. It did no good to dig up what, by this planet's standards, was ancient history. He was by no means special in his misfortune. Everyone he knew had lost someone dear to their spark in this Primus-forsaken war. Prowl was really the only thing he had left of his former life, his oldest and dearest friend. More of a brother, really, when it came right down to it. They'd both suffered and had weathered the storm together. Without him ever even having to speak a word, Prowl had understood, even encouraged him, as instincts even he'd forgotten he'd had rose to the surface.

"To be willing to die for something is all well and good, Jazz, perhaps even heroic by some standards," Prowl had advised him upon landing planet side and seeing the horrifically mangled state he'd been left in following his altercation with Megatron. "But to be willing to live, even when it seems all is lost, is the ultimate show of selflessness."

He'd been willing to die then, ready even. He was exhausted down to his very spark and the thought of having to watch another beautiful, vibrant planet full of life meet the same fate his own had held no appeal whatsoever. Especially as he was in no shape to help prevent it. He'd been strangely disappointed, angry even, when Ratchet had cheerfully informed him that, given time, he'd be just fine. He'd been ready to accept his fate, to move on to whatever existed after this lifetime.

Then, he'd found Amy and though it should have been like trying to mash a square peg into a round hole, things just sort of lined up and snapped into place inside his processor. Even before he'd met her in person he'd been drawn to her particular personnel file for some strange reason. No matter many others he went through, he'd kept coming back to her's again and again. He couldn't explain why. It just felt right. Then, seeing her the first day down in the bunker, looking like a frightened glitch mouse and trying to disappear into the wall, he knew it was right. He did want to live now, more so than he had in quite some time.

After another moment of quiet contemplation, Jazz opened yet another comm channel, this time reaching out to the twins. As soon as a connection was established he asked, "Any luck?"

"No," Sunstreaker growled in frustration. "For such a small human, she's fast."

"It's an island," Sideswipe chimed in. "She couldn't have gone far. Don't worry," he added, sounding quite worried himself. "We'll find her."

"As soon as you do, you let me know." Jazz added, "and bring her straight back here."

"But, Jazz," Sideswipe was about to argue but Jazz cut him off.

He hated to do it, he knew how sick with worry the two mechs were, but Jazz pulled rank. It was of the utmost importance that he speak with her. "That's an order, Sideswipe. Don't make me tell you twice."

There was silence on the twins' end. No doubt they were debating the pros and cons of disobeying a direct order. After a long moment, Sunstreaker answered, "Fine. Sides and I are going to split up. He's going to cover this side of base and I'm going to circle back around by the barracks. In the mean time, if she comes back, you let us know."

"You know I will," Jazz promised before letting the comm drop.

He lingered where he was for another long moment, his thoughts dwelling on the young woman in his care and what he now knew of her. Again, the feeling that he'd let her down terribly washed over him. He knew Prime was a big believer in fate and he clearly recalled Ratchet's admission that he, too, believed everything happened for a reason...yet he could see no logic behind allowing a child to suffer as Amy had. Perhaps they had been meant to end up on Earth. Perhaps he and Amy had been meant to cross paths. Jazz couldn't help but wonder, though, why they couldn't have done so sooner, when it could have actually made a difference.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy figured that the Personnel Office seemed like the most logical place to start. They'd shipped her to Diego Garcia, surely they'd be able to ship her out. She pushed all thoughts of Jazz and the twins out of her mind. Even though the thought of leaving made her heart squeeze in a way she'd never before experienced, she knew it was the right thing to do even if it did put her own life at risk.

"Can I help you?" A pretty, dark-skinned woman wearing an army uniform with Staff Sergeant insignia greeted Amy as she approached the counter. The name tape on her uniform identified her as Dodson.

"Hi," Amy greeted. "I was wondering who I'd need to speak to in order to see about transferring out of here?"

The woman, Dodson, arched a brow, "Being stuck on this island with giant robots not doing it for you, huh?"

Amy sighed, "You could say that."

"Well, you came to the right place." The woman sat aside a stack of files she'd been working on to devote her full attention to Doe. "You're certainly not the first. You'd probably be surprised how many transfer requests we get. From the outside looking in, alien robots seem cool and all but this definitely isn't an assignment for just anyone." She tapped the side of her head with her finger, "Not everyone is equipped to handle it, if you know what I mean. Have you filled out a transfer request?"

"No, not yet." Amy shook her head. "I've never done anything like this before. I'm not sure how the process works."

"Alright, well," the woman smiled, "let's take a look and see what we have to work with and we'll go from there. I need your name, rate, and service number."

"Amy Doe, Operations Specialist, 2nd Class," Amy provided and proceeded to rattle off her service number.

"Okay..." Dodson walked back to a shelving unit packed full of personnel files. Her fingers skimmed along them, eyes searching over the numbers until she came to the one she was looking for. She snagged it off the shelf. "OS2 Doe...here we go."

Walking back to the counter Staff Sergeant Dodson placed the file down and opened it up. Her eyes darted quickly over the page as she muttered to herself, "Completed A school in Great Lakes, previously stationed onboard the USS Harry S. Truman, Top Secret Security Clearance up to date and in good standing, blah, blah, blah...hmm..." the woman pursed her lips as she flipped quickly through the pages and then back again. She made a tutting sound, shook her head, and closed the file. "No, I'm sorry. I can't help you."

"What?" Perplexed, Amy leaned forward onto the counter. "Why not?"

The woman gazed back at Doe over the rim of her glasses, "Honey, you're on an indefinite personnel hold."

Amy's brow furrowed, "What does that mean?"

"Do you know what stop-loss policy is?" The Staff Sergeant asked.

Amy nodded.

"Well," She explained, "it would appear that when your reassignment to this duty station was finalized, you were flagged as mission-critical with a mandatory retention requirement."

Amy huffed in disbelief, "mandatory retention?"

"Mmhmm," the woman folded her hands together on top of the counter. "That means no PCS or PCA without the expressed consent of your Commanding Officer. We can't transfer you. Hell," the woman chuckled, "We don't even have to release you once your EAOS is up if they don't want us to. As far as the powers in charge are concerned, you're here to stay."

"I don't understand." Amy brought a hand to her forehead and tried to massage the tension away that was forming between her eyes. "I am far from mission-critical. I'm the exact opposite of mission-critical."

The woman shrugged, "someone obviously disagrees."

"So," Amy felt a sense of helplessness settle over her. "What can I do now? Is there anything I can do? I can't stay here. I can't..."

"About the only thing you can do in a case like this is take your request right up your chain of command, get your CO to sign a release." The Staff Sergeant gave Amy an encouraging smile. "I can get you the proper paperwork. If you can convince them this assignment is causing undue personal hardship and sign off on it, you can bring it back here and we can start the transfer process. Otherwise, you'll just have to suck it up until they decide to turn you loose."

Amy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she weighed her options. From what interactions she had, Captain Lennox seemed like a reasonable man. "If I can get the paperwork signed," she asked, "what type of timeframe are we talking about here?"

"A week," The Staff Sergeant Dodson answered. "Maybe two depending on the availability of orders. Shore duty, as I'm sure you're aware, is a hot commodity. Sea billets, I've found, are easier to come by. If nothing else, we may be able to get you into TPU while you wait if you feel it's a time sensitive matter."

"It's definitely time sensitive." Amy nodded in understanding, "I'll take whatever you can get."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe felt himself overcome with a renewed sense of urgency as the conversation with Jazz ended. All he wanted at that very moment was just to find Amy, scoop her up, hold her close to his spark, and assure her that, despite whatever she may have gone through in the past, things would be different from here on out. She would never be alone, never be hurt again so long as it was within his and Sunny's power to prevent it. He was incapable of fully comprehending the utter isolation she'd alluded to. He'd never been alone before, not truly. Even when they were separated, he and Sunny still remained inherently bonded together, each fully cognizant of the presence of the other even if only at a subconscious level. The realization that she'd had no one, not even her own creators, to fill the void of solitude made his spark ache in a way he'd never felt before.

Not only that, but she'd been hurt, scarred even, through a means so despicable that it made his tank churn. He couldn't wrap his processor around it. How could anyone purposefully hurt something so small and soft and kind? What kind of person could look into those beautiful green eyes and do such a thing? A monster, he answered himself. Plain and simple. He longed to be able to rid the world of such a foul glitch if only for her sake but, more than that, he wanted Amy to understand that they couldn't hurt her anymore and that she didn't need to be afraid. They may have been navigating a rocky, unmapped road but they were making the journey together. This bump was no exception. They just needed to get up enough speed in order to get over it.

He knew his Ames was in no frame of mind to hear it and that his brother wasn't in a place where he was ready to flat out acknowledge it, but Sideswipe wasn't too proud to admit, if only to himself, that he had fallen in love with the woman. It went well beyond a passing fancy or simple curiosity about another species. Sure, he'd been infatuated by femmes before. Sunstreaker had, as well. Those instances, however, had been short lived, quickly fizzling out to be replaced by another. Never had they involved such spark-deep longing and admiration for another person. The fact that they had found each other despite light years of distance between them, that they had come to Earth at just the precise time to be placed in one another's path...it was more than just coincidence. It was meant to be. As improbable and impossible as the circumstances were, it had to be. He believed that to be true with every molecule of his being.

They needed to find her. They wouldn't let her go, not like this. They couldn't. It wasn't an option.

Sideswipe looked to his brother, noting the hard look in his optics and the rigid set of his jaw. He, obviously, felt the same even if he didn't voice it. Knowing they were on the same page, he asked, "What's the plan, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker grit his denta together, "We split up. You take this side of the island. Search every building, every nook and cranny a human could possibly squeeze themselves into."

Sides nodded.

"I'll do the same on the other side. Like you said," Sunny growled, "It's an island. She couldn't have gone far. I know humans can swim but I don't think they can swim that well."

"Are we taking her back to Jazz?" Sides asked, concerned she'd be pulled away from them before they could say what needed to be said. "What happens when we find her?"

"We fix this," Sunstreaker simply stated. "Whatever it takes."

Again, Sideswipe nodded in understanding, watching as his brother transformed down into his alt mode. "If you find her before I do..."

"You'll be the first person I comm."

As Sunstreaker peeled out away from the curb, Sides again felt that urgent tug at his spark. Wherever Ames was at that very moment she was hurting and alone. Regardless of whether or not it was too soon to make such declarations, as far as he was concerned the three of them were a team, a trio, an inseparable trine, though not technically bonded. There was absolutely no reason she should suffer alone and in silence, not when he and Sunny were there to help bear some of the burden. She'd had little reason to trust or rely on anyone but herself for so long that he was certain the transition would be a difficult one but if they could only get her to see how important she was to them, how irreplaceable, it would be a good start towards binding their little family together as it should be.

 _Family._

Sideswipe really, really liked the sound of that. They really were kind of like a little family in their own way, he mused. Despite the gravity of the situation, he smiled slightly at that thought. He lingered for only a moment longer, mentally mapping out the base and making a note of the places Amy was the likeliest to be before he, too, collapsed down into his alt form. With renewed resolve, Sideswipe set out to scour his side of the base for the woman he was, admittedly, helm over wheels in love with whether she realized it or not.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Transfer?" Lennox looked at the woman strangely. He seemed confused, as if her request made no sense to him whatsoever. "I was under the impression that things were going well between you and Jazz. He's done nothing but sing your praises since you got here. Am I missing something? What's changed since this morning?"

"Jazz isn't the problem," Amy stressed. "Jazz is...he's-he's great. I just..." Amy took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm and professional. It wouldn't do her cause any good to break down into a blubbering mess. "It's come to my attention that I may not be the right person to fill this billet. It's my professional opinion that it would be in everyone's best interest if you found someone else to fulfill my duties. I know there are other people who are just as qualified, probably more so, who would be more beneficial to this team than I am, sir."

"Not to argue but," Lennox shook his head, "I'm really trying to understand what's going on here. Jazz handpicked you out of over 500 possible candidates across all service branches with some civilian contractors thrown in for good measure. The stack of personnel files he and Epps went through was almost as tall as he is. Truthfully, I don't have the slightest clue what criteria he was looking for but when he pulled your file, you'd have thought the guy had found the Holy Grail. Jazz was extremely adamant that he wanted you, specifically. He wouldn't even consider anyone else. Now you're telling me he was mistaken?"

Amy swallowed hard and willed her eyes not to tear up, "Yes, I believe so, sir. I don't belong here."

"This seems awfully sudden," Lennox read over the paperwork and shook his head once again. "You were all smiles this morning. Did something happen? Is there something going on I need to know about? If there's a problem..."

"No, sir. Nothing like that." Amy shook her head and adamantly denied anything of the sort even though her current predicament was forefront in her mind. There was one truth, however, that she couldn't deny even if she'd wanted to. "It's me, sir. I'm the problem. Just me."

Lennox stared hard at her for another long moment, as if by doing so he could unravel this sudden conundrum. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a habitual manner. "Alright," he huffed, "So, what do you need from me?"

Amy relaxed slightly, hoping she was finally getting somewhere. "I went to Personnel to ask how to get this whole thing rolling and was informed that there's a restriction on my file. I can't go anywhere until it's lifted and I was told the only one that could do that was my CO..."

"So you want me to sign this waiver," Lennox surmised.

"Yes, sir," Amy confirmed.

"I'm going to be honest," Lennox began, "I have no idea what's going on with you or Jazz, but I can tell you without a doubt that mandatory retention isn't N.E.S.T. standard operating procedure. We don't need people here that don't want to be. We're not holding anyone here against their will."

It was Amy's turn to look confused, "Sir?"

"I don't know why there's a restriction on your personnel file, Petty Officer Doe" he admitted. "I certainly didn't put it there but, if you're really serious about getting out of here..."

"I am," Amy nodded.

"I can find out." Lennox sighed, "I like to know what exactly I'm signing off on. Fair enough?"

"Yes, sir," she agreed.

"Alright," Lennox reluctantly tucked the paperwork back into its folder. "I'll look into this and see what's going on and then I'll get back to you."

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, sure." Lennox returned the woman's salute and watched, perplexed, as she turned and seemed to slink from the hangar almost as if she were in hiding. The whole scenario didn't quite jive right in his mind. He had the feeling there was a lot more going on than just a simple transfer request. The Petty Officer didn't strike him as the type to act on a whim. Then again, she technically wasn't his to be fretting over. She was N.E.S.T., yes, but she was also considered TAD and didn't quite fall under the typical chain of command. That had been the agreement struck between the powers that be. Determined to get the unpleasantness done and over with, he grabbed the paperwork and went in search of Jazz.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Not knowing where else to go after pleading her case with Lennox, Amy had returned to the barracks. Foregoing the elevator, she chose to climb the back stairs in hope that the physical exertion may help burn some of her nervous energy. It didn't. When she reached her room, she was a bit disheartened to see a collection of sticky notes stuck to her door. Her eyes flitted over the printed text, her throat tightening as she read.

' _Call Jazz. He says it's urgent.'_

' _Sideswipe is looking for you. Please give him a call.'_

' _Sunstreaker is starting to make us really nervous. Can you please call him so he'll leave us alone?'_

And on they went. There were eight notes in total. She carefully peeled them off her door and shoved them in her pocket. Taking her key card out, she quickly swiped it and let herself inside her room. A weariness settled over her and she went to sink down onto the end of her bed. She dug her phone back out of her pocket and pressed the power button, turning it back on. Almost immediately it began to vibrate with an incoming call.

 _Sunstreaker_

She swiped left to decline and was shocked to see that in the time she'd been running around trying to rectify her situation that she had an additional fifteen missed calls and her voicemail box was full. She quickly powered it back off and tossed it to the side. With a groan of frustration, she fell backwards onto the bed and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. She felt like everything was falling apart around her. Even more disconcerting was that she seemed to be the only one, at least in her eyes, that was upset about it. She couldn't for the life of her understand how they could be so accepting and unconcerned about something as potentially detrimental to their ability to bring an end to a war that had been fought for much, much too long.

Just then, there was a sudden knocking on her door. It startled her and she flew up into a sitting position. She remained absolutely still, not even daring to breathe as she strained her ears to hear who might be outside her room. A moment ticked by, then two, before the knocking came again.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar, masculine voice called out, "Petty Officer Doe, are you home?"

Amy remained still and unmoving. After a few long moments in which she waited with bated breath, she finally heard whoever it was knock one last time and mumble something unintelligible before their footsteps retreated back in the direction of the elevator. She let out a long, shaky breath and rose from the bed. She'd spent her entire life longing for company and acceptance but now that she just wanted to disappear off to herself, her room wasn't even safe harbor.

She couldn't stay here but there really wasn't anywhere else to escape to. There was no port catwalk to disappear to and clear her head. There was no gentle rocking of the waves beneath her feet. She didn't even have the feeling of security being surrounded by 97,000 tons of floating steel had once afforded her. She felt adrift in a sea of uncertainty. She needed to organize her thoughts.

It came to her then. A small whimper of relief escaped from between her lips as she began to jerk the bobby pins out of her hair and work it loose from its bun. She quickly combed her fingers through the blond locks, not so much in an attempt to straighten the waves but in an effort to ease some of the tension building around her temples. With the same efficiency she proceeded to divest herself of her uniform, taking time to carefully hang the garments back up in her locker before digging through the rest of her incredibly limited civilian wardrobe for a pair of gray running shorts and a light blue T-shirt.

She redressed quickly, feeling somewhat vulnerable with her arms and legs now exposed. She studiously ignored the small, circular scars that dotted her skin, instead shoving her feet into a pair of running shoes. She collected her military ID and her room key, tucking them both into the hidden pocket within her shorts, and left her phone still powered off and lying on her bed. Creeping to the door, she carefully opened it a crack and peeped out. A tentative look down both ends of the hallway told her the coast was clear. Stepping out, she closed the door and locked it behind herself only to spy an actual piece of notebook paper now taped to it. With a sigh, she plucked it off. They were nothing if not persistent.

The writing was...strange. It was in English, obviously, or she wouldn't be able to read it, but the lettering was more akin to calligraphy and seemed better suited to the front of a Hallmark card than to be scrawled across a ripped-out piece of wide ruled notebook paper. It almost reminded her of Bellissima font and she paused for a moment to simply admire the quality of the penmanship on display before reading the short note.

 _Squishie,_

 _This is getting ridiculous. We're not going away so stop acting like your wires are crossed and answer your fragging phone. Please._

 _Yours,_

 _Sunstreaker_

A lump formed in her throat and tears prickled at her eyes. For the life of her, she couldn't wrap her head around their insistence. It wasn't something she'd ever experienced before and, honestly, she wasn't sure how to deal with it. She knew how to make herself scarce. She wasn't as sure how to make herself available. In this situation, she was certain doing so wasn't even an option. There was too much at stake to let personal feelings, wants, and desires strain an already precarious scenario. As Captain Lennox had so vehemently advised Galloway, there was a war going on with soldiers to command and strategies to devise.

Taking a shaky breath, she folded the paper into a small square and tucked it into her shorts as well. She wouldn't even know what to say to them if she did answer the phone, she decided. It was what it was. She had a pretty good idea of what they would say, however. She'd heard it over and over her entire life. She didn't need any more feigned shock or empty apologies. She most certainly didn't want their pity. She didn't think she could stand to see that look of benign sympathy on their faces...the look of someone feeling sorry for her. She'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

The sound of the elevator suddenly moving caught her attention. A quick glance down the hall told her it was on its way back up. Not wanting to be caught standing in the hallway, she quickly turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction. She rounded the corner out of sight just as she heard the ding indicating the elevator doors had opened. Seizing the opportunity to escape, she made a break for the back staircase. She needed some time to decompress.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Normally, Jazz was a pretty easy mech to find. Given his current physical limitations there were only so many places he could go. He could usually be found in the med bay with Ratchet, the bunker with Doe, Prowl's office, or in the peaceful solitude of his own quarters. Lennox, however, was drawing a blank. He'd been to all the mech's usual haunts and had come up empty. Though he rarely ventured too far into the bots' actual living spaces, figuring they owed them at least a modicum of privacy to do whatever it was giant alien robots did when they weren't fighting each other, he found himself standing in what they had designated as a rec area.

Jazz was nowhere to be seen but, as luck would have it, a certain yellow scout seemed to be taking full advantage of his down time. Bumblebee looked as comfortable as someone of his build and stature could be under the circumstances. He was sprawled out in a chair that looked as though it had been fabricated and welded together from pieces of a large metal shipping container. He held a half-empty cube of energon in one hand- something that momentarily intrigued Lennox as he had often wondered how the scout ingested his rations given his apparent lack of mouth parts. It was a mystery that wouldn't be solved today given that the mech seemed perfectly content just to swirl it around. His softly glowing gaze was focused on the enormous television mounted to the wall and he seemed totally engrossed in an episode of _Maury._

"In the case of nine month old David, Chris, you are not the father!"

" _Oh, snap_!" Bee sat forward in the chair as if he couldn't quite believe the results either.

Lennox chuckled as he approached, "Watching that crap will rot out your brains, Bee."

The mech jumped, slightly startled by the sudden intrusion. Upon realizing who it was, Bee looked slightly embarrassed at having been caught indulging in a guilty pleasure. He recovered quickly, greeting the man, " _Greetings from Starfleet, Captain_."

"Sorry to interrupt," Lennox apologized. "I'm looking for Jazz. Have you seen him? It's kind of important."

Bumblebee nodded, pointed to the Captain, then tapped himself on the chest plates and made a motion as if using a steering wheel.

"Really? You don't mind? That'd be great, Bee." Lennox breathed in relief, "I've been all over this base once already. You're the best."

Bee made a gesture as if to say he was well aware before sitting his cube to the side, switching off the television, and rising from his seat. With all the strange grace and flexibility Lennox had come to expect from his alien friends, a shiny, yellow Camaro soon stood in the mech's place. The driver's side door popped open in invitation. Without any hesitation, Lennox slipped inside. The door shut gently behind him.

As the car began to move, Lennox thanked the mech once again, "I appreciate this, Bumblebee. I really do. It's been a long, strange day."

A sympathetic sound emanated from the radio as they ventured deeper into the base. They rolled to a halt right outside of the small outbuilding that served as a facility for the storage of crude oil for conversion into energon. Prowl typically oversaw the the rationing of oil barrels given the expense and extensive paperwork involved in procurement. Sure enough, the SIC was there but so also was Jazz. The two seemed to be involved in a serious conversation from what Lennox could see.

Prowl stood rigidly still, door wings held high. He wore a look of concentrated concern which he seemed to reserve for only the most grave of circumstances. Jazz, on the other hand, was much more animated, gesturing almost frantically as the other mech frowned and nodded in understanding. Lennox was loathe to interrupt but the paperwork he carried with him demanded an explanation.

The Captain climbed out of Bee and, as he approached the other two mechs, heard the sound of transformation echoing from behind as the curious scout switched back into his bipedal mode. Lennox cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Prowl and Jazz. "Prowl," he greeted with a nod. "Jazz, I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Will," Jazz returned the greeting, "Now's not really the best time. I'm kinda dealing with a situation..."

"I figured." Lennox extended the request paperwork he'd received from Doe toward the mech, "Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this by any chance, would it?"

"What is it?" Frowning, Jazz took the offered packet and began to read through it.

Prowl, too, stepped forward, reading over the smaller mech's shoulder, his own frown deepening. After a moment the two paused and looked at each other. Though no words were spoken, Lennox had been around the bots long enough to know that some form of communication had passed between them.

A long moment of silence passed before Prowl asked, "May I?"

After a bit of hesitation, Jazz handed the paperwork over to the SIC who, in turn, carefully rolled it and tucked it into some hidden compartment or another behind his chest plates.

"Well," Lennox looked questioningly between the two mechs, "Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? If we're having personnel problems I need to know about it so it can be dealt with."

Jazz vented heavily and shook his head. He stalked away several feet and planted his hands on his hips, head tilted back, and stared at the sky as it somehow held the answers to the Captain's question.

Prowl finally spoke, "Rest assured, Captain, that we are not experiencing any personnel related issues. We're quite happy with the team as it's been assembled."

"Okay," Lennox drawled. "Great. Glad to hear it. So, why is Petty Officer Doe trying to jump ship? It seems really out of the blue. Kind of out of character from what I've seen of her, you know?"

Prowl seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking again, "We're currently dealing with a rather complex domestic situation, the details of which I won't bore you with as it is quite a private matter and has no bearing on day-to-day operations of this base. What I will say is that we are currently working toward an amicable solution to benefit all parties involved."

Lennox's brow furrowed in confusion, "Domestic?"

"Indeed," Prowl confirmed with a sharp nod. "As a family man, yourself, I'm sure you can appreciate the care and discretion with which these matters must be handled. As for Petty Officer Doe's request, we'll give it the appropriate vetting and consideration it deserves. Will there be anything else, Captain?"

"I, uh," Lennox scratched his head. "No, I guess not."

"Very well." Prowl added in a dismissive tone, "If you'll excuse us, we have business to attend to."

Lennox watched as Prowl laid a hand on Jazz's shoulder and indicated for the mech to follow him. He got the strange feeling that he'd just been blown off. Obviously, they wanted him kept out of the loop of whatever was going on. A domestic situation? He looked back to Bee, as if the mech might hold some answer to what was going on. Unfortunately, he looked just as confused and simply offered a shrug in return before folding himself back down into his alt mode and opening his door in invitation.

With a sigh, Lennox trudged back over to the car and climbed inside. "Thanks, Bee."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sunstreaker was furious. For the most part, he was a straightforward type of mech when it came to dealing with issues that threatened those he cared about. When a problem arose, he handled it in the most expedient way possible...usually with his fists. It probably wasn't the most pragmatic way to handle certain situations but it was a method that had served he and his brother well over the vorns. The situation he now found himself in confounded him, however. This wasn't something he could punch his way out of. His enemy was intangible, the ghosts of a past that couldn't ever be completely exorcised.

It was something he was all too familiar with himself.

As he cruised slowly through the admin/housing side of the base, he kept himself tuned in to his surroundings, looking for even the smallest indication that the human he searched for had been there. Searching for a slagging human...something he would have never ever thought he'd be doing. But, as he'd been reminding himself over and over again, she wasn't _just_ a human. She was _their_ human. She was their...what? It was messy and confusing and, at times like this when he didn't know what to do, more than a little infuriating. He didn't even know how to classify her anymore.

Friend? It was far more intimate than that. She carried part of them, their very essence, within her being. Bonded? She didn't have a spark of her own with which to reciprocate. If she had, things would be so much simpler and make much more sense. Mate? He wasn't entirely convinced such a thing was even physically possible. That, however, didn't stop him from thinking of ways to make it work. She was their's. Just...their's. When it came right down to it, human or no, that's all that really mattered and all he really needed to know.

She was their's, their's to care for and protect, and someone had hurt her. Terribly, and not just in the physical sense. Physical wounds healed eventually, it was the injuries you couldn't see that always caused the worst pain. Every bolt in his body demanded retribution on her behalf, for all the suffering and loneliness. The pain that radiated from her had been a near tangible thing. Like a switch being flipped, something inside of him had snapped to life, demanding justice for the wrongs that had been committed against the small creature that had unwittingly wormed her way into his spark through means that should have been impossible.

Earth was filthy, organics were disgusting, and yet here he was getting all bent out of shape over one despite it all.

He'd gone building to building, more or less demanding cooperation from the hapless humans unfortunate enough to find themselves in his path. She hadn't been in her barracks or the chow hall or any of the other surrounding structures. He'd questioned people, all denied having seen her. He was growing irritated, not so much with her but with himself for allowing her to walk out in the first place. This was something that needed to be discussed and dealt with as a cohesive unit. At least, that's how these things were supposed to work, or so he'd always been lead to believe...if they could figure out where the frag she'd run off to, that is.

With a growl of frustration, he suddenly stopped dead in the middle of the road, causing the Jeep driving along behind him to have to slam on their brakes to keep from plowing into his aft. He transformed back into his bipedal mode, giving the driver a menacing glare that had them immediately reversing and flipping a u-turn. He watched the vehicle disappear down the road before returning his attention to the task at hand. Heedless of the humans that scattered in his path, he strode down the street, optics sharp and his head on a swivel.

He followed the road around, eventually ending up directly in front of the MWR building, and paused. A memory tugged at his processor and he stepped out of the street and up onto the sidewalk. He moved around to the side of the building and spotted it. Sure enough, a footpath had been worn into the scraggly grass, leading back away from the street and down toward the beach. Toward the ocean.

The Squishie loved the ocean.

Though not thrilled about the prospect of trudging through sand, his distaste for the grainy particulate was overridden by his need to see Amy safe and sound. Hoping to finally put this whole horrible situation to rest, he followed the trail around until it opened up into a small dune field that sloped gently downward into the back shore of the beach. There, sitting in the sand about ten feet from the waves that lapped at the shoreline, sat the object of his search. The relief that washed over him felt unreal.

"Sides," Sunstreaker immediately commed his brother, hoping to ease his tension as well. "I found her."

Sideswipe's reply was instantaneous, "Where?"

"On the beach," Sunny replied. "Behind MWR. Follow the path around the side of the building."

"Don't let her leave! I'm on my way," relief filled the silver front liner's voice and the comm immediately cut out.

Sunstreaker stood there a moment longer, simply watching the woman from a distance. She seemed completely lost in her own thoughts, not really even seeing the ocean waves rushing up the beach just a few feet away from her. She looked small and alone set against the backdrop of endless ocean spread out before her. He considered coming Jazz as he knew the mech was probably worried out of his processor, but he hesitated. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was greedy in some aspects. Though it may have been selfish, he wanted her to themselves. Just for a while. Just until they could figure out where things stood.

Sunny drew air down deep into his intakes, venting it out slowly, and set off across the beach. He grit his denta against the feel of the sand shifting beneath his pedes as he walked. He tried his best not to think about how much time he'd be spending in the wash racks later. "Of all the places you could have run off to," he grumbled to himself, "it had to be the dirtiest place on this entire slagging island."

The woman didn't even seem to acknowledge his presence as he came to a halt right next to her. Frown firmly engrained on his face plates, he studied her for another long moment before turning to gaze at the ocean as he collected his thoughts. He wished Sideswipe would hurry. He was much better at all the flowery emotional stuff. Personally, Sunny preferred showing over telling. Actions speaking louder and whatnot. A hopeful glance back the way he came, however, told him his twin had not yet arrived.

Sucking in yet another deep inhalation, the mech lowered himself down into the sand, grimacing at the feeling of the small, gritty grains of sand immediately working their way into tiny cracks and crevices that he'd just as soon not think about. Once he was settled, only a couple inches of space remained between them. Forearms propped on his knees, his fingers twitched as he did his very best to resist the urge to reach out and touch her.

"Gotta hand it to you, Squishie," he spoke, finally drawing the woman's attention. "You're almost as good at disappearing as Mirage...and that trinket has it down to a science, especially when there's work involved."

Amy sniffled but said nothing. Instead, she focused her attention back on the water.

Sunny looked her over and decided that she looked miserable. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes. Her face was blotchy and red and a telltale moisture glittered upon her cheekbones. He bit his glossa as an almost automatic retort about leaky organics popped into his processor. Despite not having the gift of words his brother possessed, he knew there was a time and place for everything—this wasn't it. Instead, he noted that she'd changed from her uniform into civilian clothes at some point leaving her arms and legs exposed to his view.

In a different place and under different circumstances, he may have found all of that strange, smooth, alien softness intriguing enough to explore. Now, however, his optics seemed to search out every single unnatural blemish and imperfection, analyzing and cataloging each one, mentally adding to the list he was compiling of wrongs that needed to be righted. She must have felt the weight of his stare as she shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. Sunstreaker vented and looked away.

"Look, Squishie," Sunny shook his head, "I'm not very good at this. Sides is on his way and he'll know what to say but I want you to know that...I'm sorry."

Amy made a snuffling sound and buried her face in her knees.

Sunny kicked at the sand with one foot, sending a small plume of it up into the air. "I'm sorry you were stuck here by yourself on this filthy fragging planet while we were out there," he gestured to the sky.

Amy lifted her head slightly, seemingly confused by the turn in his apology. She'd expected pity. This...wasn't it. This was...anger.

"We didn't plan for any of this. I know that ignorance isn't an excuse but I'm sorry just the same. I don't know how these things are handled between humans but, where we're from, we take things like this very seriously." The mech continued, "We weren't here then, but we're here now so, you need to get it through that small, boney head of your's that all the going it solo survival slag is over. It's done. No more running away and hiding when something doesn't go your way. That's not how this works. Whether you like it or not, your problems are now our problems and vice versa. We deal with them together. That's just how it is so cut all the stoic loner slag and pull your head out of your aft. We're not doing this again."

Amy looked taken aback and slightly offended

"That said," Sunny ignored her stunned expression and gentled his tone slightly, "I don't guess you want to talk about it right now? Maybe write down some names and addresses for me?"

She huffed in incredulity.

"No?" Sunstreaker sighed, "Later, then. It's not like Sides and I have poured our sparks out to you or anything, is it? I guess it's technically our turn, right? It's only fair. So," he rumbled, "what do you want to know?"

Amy said nothing, not yet trusting herself to speak.

"Right," he vented. "Well, let's see, Sides and I are from a city-state called Kaon. I guess you humans would say it was on the wrong side of the tracks. Completely Decepticon controlled."

That seemed to draw Amy's full attention. She sat up straighter and turned her gaze up to the mech fully, the look on her face a cross between curiosity and perplexity.

"Kaon was famous for two things," Sunstreaker continued, his gaze far off as he remembered. "The smelting pits where anyone who was brave or mis-clocked enough to stand up against the regime were sent to be executed and the gladiator pits where those self-important fraggers would all go to watch mechs far less fortunate than themselves beat the everliving slag out of each other until one of them dropped in exchange for a few credits."

Amy drew in a small, shocked breath.

"The only other real viable options not involving death or dismemberment were to either join the Decepticon Army or go to work in the energon mines." A sad smile lifted one corner of the mech's mouth. "Our creators...parents...," he corrected for her benefit. "They worked the mines. They busted their afts every single day to keep our tanks full and a roof over our heads." He mused, "We were rust poor and didn't even know it. We never lacked for the important things and despite everything else going on, we had a pretty good life together. Then," his smile fell, "one day they just didn't come home."

A moment passed in which the only sound was that of the rolling ocean before Amy finally spoke, asking in a small voice, "What happened to them?"

"There was an accident at the mine," Sunny rumbled. "The Decepticons needed the energon to fuel their army. They didn't care how they got it so long as the cubes kept coming. The safety of the bots mining it wasn't high in their list of priorities and the whole thing just sort of...caved in on them. They didn't even bother to try to retrieve the bodies. They just left them there like they were nothing but scrap metal and opened a new mine shaft."

Amy once again felt tears fill her eyes. They weren't for herself this time, however, they were for the two mechs she'd grown so close to. It was obvious they had loved their creators/parents very much. Though she'd never experienced that type of familial bond herself, she couldn't imagine what it must have felt like to have that all taken away in an instant. She was under no delusion that she was the only one to ever experience grief but with Sideswipe always seeming so mischievous and upbeat and Sunstreaker being so, well...himself...she would have never guessed such a trauma was buried in their past. Guilt washed over her and she felt suddenly selfish for focusing so much on her own issues without any thought or consideration for anything else.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered brokenly.

"We were young," he continued. "Too young to be left on our own. They sent us to what they call a Youth Sector. Supposedly it's a place they send younglings and sparklings who've ended up on their own where they're taken care of until they can take care of themselves. What it really was is a cheap labor camp. We weren't there long. I'd be damned straight to the Pit before I'd have let us becomes slaves to the same system that killed our creators. We left and took our chances on the streets."

"It was hard," he admitted. "We did whatever we needed to do...lied, stole, cheated. We got involved in a lot of things we're not too proud of. We learned how to fight in order to survive. Eventually, we got good at it." He smirked, "Really, really good. So good that we went down and signed up to fight in the pits. Most bots outside of Kaon looked down on gladiatorial combat and those that participated in it but, it was legal and paid better than hustling credits on the street corner."

Amy nodded in understanding even as her heart felt like it was breaking.

"Then this slagging war broke out and we jumped at the opportunity to give the Decepticons a little taste of what they'd put us through. Now we're here. So there you have it, Squishie. That's the condensed version." Sunstreaker gave a self deprecating snort. "You've managed to get yourself tangled up with a couple of lowlife scrappers from the bad side of town. You really know how to pick them."

"You're not...lowlife scrappers...," Amy softly disagreed.

Sunny shrugged, "Well, I know at least one person who disagrees with you on that point."

"They're wrong," Amy emphatically stated, feeling in her gut that she knew exactly who Sunstreaker was referring to. After a moment of contemplative silence, she quietly asked, "What were their names? Your parents?"

"Tempest and Redline."

Sunstreaker and Amy both startled slightly at the sound of Sideswipe's voice. They turned to find the mech standing a respectful distance away.

Sunstreaker demanded, "The frag you doing all the way over there?"

Sides shrugged, "I didn't want to interrupt."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics as he twin finally approached and joined them in the sand. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," Sideswipe gave his brother a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he settled himself down next to Amy. He refocused his attention on the woman, "Sweet spark...are you ok?"

"Yeah." Amy shrugged, "I don't know. I just...I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I feel like everything is just slowly coming apart and the only one bothered by it is me and that makes me feel even worse."

"Maybe it isn't coming apart," Sides theorized. "Maybe it's finally coming together and it's the sudden change that's scary. It doesn't have to be, though. Sunny and I made it through some pretty dark times together." He gestured between them, "We, the three of us, we can figure this out too. We know it can be hard," Sideswipe admitted. "Being twins and sharing a spark, sometimes it can be difficult to relate to people on the outside that don't share that same connection but you're a part of that connection now, too. You just have to let us in."

"I'm not sure I know how," the woman admitted.

"It has to begin somewhere, Ames," Sideswipe nudged the woman. "Sunny's right. Stop running and hiding. You need to talk to us. Tell us what's on your mind. Let us know when there's a problem. Like one of your famous philosopher's once said, if you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself, and then make a change."

Amy raised a brow even as she contemplated the wisdom of his words. She wished it were that easy. "I'm pretty sure those are lyrics to a Michael Jackson song."

Sunstreaker snorted, "Man in the Mirror."

Sideswipe gave a half shrug, "He was the King of Pop. Same difference. The sentiment still stands."

For the first time since that morning, Amy actually smiled a bit.

Sunstreaker's comm suddenly crackled to life in his audio.

Jazz's voice poured over the connection, "Please tell me you've found her."

"Not yet," He lied. He was loathe to disturb the quiet moment of peace they'd managed to carve out for themselves. He felt they were teetering on the verge of some sort of breakthrough and could tell Sides felt it as well. Jazz could wait...at least for a little while longer. "We'll let you know when we do."

 **End of Chapter 36**


	37. Chapter 37

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 37**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all wonderful on this beautiful day. To everyone in the States, I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. I totally ate myself into a turkey coma, lol...but it was delicious. As promised, here is the second half of the last chapter. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to those who've added this story to their alerts and follows and especially to my fantastic reviewers: SunnyandSidesFemme17, 'Anonymous' (glad I could brighten your day!), KayleeChiara, TheCauldron, jellybeanz513, poppycakes, shelby20125, Alice Gone Madd, Ekeifer, shizzlethis1, o-dragon, xXTheLegendXx, monkeybaby, 'Guests', xIliadx, AmirreaTheArtist, SoundlyManners, BarricadesDemon216, and bambam411**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The decided to walk back as opposed to drive. The twins were in no rush to get back and Amy seemed more or less content to go along with whatever they wanted. They'd spent nearly an hour sitting on the beach just talking and trying to figure things out. Eventually, Jazz's comms became frequent and insistent enough that Sunstreaker had finally relented and told the mech they'd found her safe and sound. He suspected the TIC knew they hadn't been completely forthcoming about Amy's whereabouts but figured he'd have to understand where they were coming from. In the end, they'd agreed to head back to the other side of the base.

Amy had found herself plucked from the ground and, after a careful embrace and affectionate nuzzle, balanced precariously upon one of Sideswipe's broad shoulders. Though she guesstimated the mech -only- stood about fifteen or so feet tall, the ground seemed very, very far away. It was enough to make her head spin slightly. To steady herself, she grabbed onto the closest thing she could find, which just so happened to be a small indentation in the armor on the side of the mech's head, and held on for dear life.

"Easy there, Ames," Sideswipe chuckled. "You can relax your grip. That's my ear you're crushing."

"Oh!" She felt her face heat in embarrassment but also felt the itch of curiosity. Leaning in a bit closer, she examined the area she'd been clinging to and, sure enough, spotted the opening to what apparently was an auditory canal camouflaged within the seams of Sideswipe's armor. Not thinking, she released her hold and instead used her index finger to gently trace around it in an exploratory manner.

Sideswipe jumped slightly as a shiver ran through his frame, "That tickles."

"Sorry!" Amy jerked her hand away as if she'd been burned.

"I never said I didn't like it," he teased.

Again, Amy felt her face grow hot.

"Seriously, though," the mech assured with a grin, "you can relax. I'm not going to let you fall. I swear on my spark. It all goes back to that trust thing we were talking about, remember?"

"Right," Amy sighed. Aside from being so far from the ground, she was also keenly aware of the curious stares they were drawing from passers by as they made their way down the street. Amy's voice trembled as she tried to ignore them. "It's just...I can walk, you know."

"I know," Sides agreed. "But this is much more fun. Don't you think?"

"People are looking at us," she commented.

"So?" Sunstreaker shrugged as he walked along beside them. " Let them look. What have any of these fraggers ever done for you?"

"Nothing," Amy quietly admitted.

"Exactly," Sunny continued. "You spend too much time worrying about what a bunch of useless meat sacks think about you and all you end up doing is making yourself miserable. You don't need to ingratiate yourself to any of them. They can all go straight to the Pit. They're not better than you are."

Amy opened her mouth to argue but promptly shut it again. There was truth to what Sunstreaker said. Her entire life she'd spent walking on eggshells, trying to please everyone around her and often at her own expense. It wasn't so much that she wanted people to like her, she'd settle just to be tolerated. She wanted to be accepted at the very least which was a very elusive prospect for someone who'd been basically rejected in some form or another her entire life. She spent so much time worrying about doing or saying the wrong thing that would get her ostracized that sometimes she couldn't think of anything else. It was, at times, all consuming.

"Sunny's right," Sides chimed in, disrupting Amy's train of thought. "Besides, we happen to think you're pretty great and I'm not just saying that because of the whole spark thing. It's true." He began to tick points off on his fingers. "You're smart. You work hard. You're honest. Kind. Responsible..."

"Forgiving," Sunstreaker tossed out.

Sideswipe pointed at his brother in agreement. "Not to mention," he added with a lopsided grin, "You're the most attractive human I've seen since I've been here."

Sunstreaker hummed in agreement.

"And," Sideswipe, seeing how the woman grew flustered, threw in for good measure, "you're amazingly soft and your hair smells really, really good. If other people can't see that, then frag 'em. It's their loss."

"I.." Amy frowned. "I guess..."

"I know," Sides turned his head and winked at her.

Sunstreaker seemed to pick her train of thought right out of the air. "We aren't like them, Squishie. Whatever happens, we're not going anywhere."

Amy's frown deepened as she quietly spoke, "I requested a transfer."

"What?" Sideswipe's head whipped back around so quickly that it nearly startled Amy off her perch. "Why?"

Amy sighed. "I'm sorry. I just...I panicked..."

"Of course you did," Sunstreaker shook his head. "Why wouldn't you? I swear, Squishie..."

"I was thinking about my job and how me being here was compromising mission integrity with you guys being forced to stay on base..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Sunstreaker stepped in front of his brother and stopped walking, placing a hand out for Sides to stop as well. "Pump your brakes. Let's get a couple things straight. First of all, no one 'forces' us to do anything. Ever. Secondly, mission integrity is nowhere near compromised and if it was, it sure as the Pit wouldn't be your fault."

"But," Amy started to argue, "They pulled you from the mission rotation because of me!"

"Partly," Sideswipe conceded. "Well, that was mostly me and Sunny's argument, anyway. No way were we going to leave you here alone after what happened last time. Never. Not going to happen. Of course, Lennox wouldn't have understood any of that so, Jazz put forth a very valid strategic argument."

"Which," Sunny smirked, "we would have gladly told you about if you hadn't glitched out and ran off on us before we could."

Amy's brow furrowed, "Strategic?"

"Think about it, Ames," Sideswipe explained, "Your office is two doors down from the last remaining piece of the Allspark."

Amy shuddered slightly as she remembered her one and only interaction with the fragment. "Okay..."

Sunstreaker elaborated, "We've literally fought a war over that piece of space junk. We had to beat the Deceptiscum back down into the Pit just to get it here. Who do you think is going to handle them if they ever pull their heads out of their afts long enough to figure out where we're hiding the fragging thing?"

"No offense, sweet spark," Sideswipe chuckled, "but your military is kind of...well...mushy."

"So..." Amy began to connect the dots. "You're kind of staying here to stand guard?"

"Ironhide got himself blown full of holes, Jazz isn't in any shape to scrap either, Bee's always with that Witwicky kid, Ratchet's a fragging doctor, Prime and Prowl are always traveling all over creation to meet with this or that leader, and Mirage is a useless trinket." Sunny asked, "Who else is going to do it?"

Amy nodded, "I...I guess I never thought of that."

"That's why you need to talk to us, Ames." Sideswipe turned his head to look at the woman. "If you have concerns about something, let us know. We can work it out but we can't read your mind."

Feeling thoroughly chastised, Amy nodded. "You're right. It was...I was stupid."

"You're not stupid," Sunstreaker vented as the trio began moving once again. "We get it. You just need to stop jumping to the worst case scenario right out of the gate, that's all. Stop making things harder than they need to be. Primus knows, life's hard enough."

It was silent for a moment as they continued on their way, each absorbing the conversation in their own way.

Then after a beat, Sideswipe asked in all seriousness, "So, where are we going and when do we leave?"

Amy turned her head to look at him, "We?"

"Well, yeah," the mech nodded. "You transfer, we transfer. That's how this works, Ames. You can't break a set. Everyone knows that. It's common knowledge."

"Where you go, we go," Sunstreaker confirmed. "Sides and I share a spark so we're stuck with each other. You've absorbed some of that energy so you're stuck with us."

Sideswipe mused as they continued to walk. "I wouldn't really mind getting off this island, to be honest. Just picture it, Ames...miles and miles of wide open highway, the radio turned all the way up, windows down, wind whipping through your hair..."

Sunny smirked, "No sand stuck up under your aft armor..."

"And there's that," Sides chuckled.

"Well, don't pack just yet." Amy shared, "I have some sort of restriction on my personnel file. I can't go anywhere until it's lifted."

Sideswipe lifted a brow plate in curiosity, "What's that about?"

Amy shrugged, "I turned my paperwork in to Lennox. He's looking into it."

"Don't worry about it, Squishie," Sunny assured the woman. "Stay. Go. We'll figure something out."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Jazz was waiting right outside the hangar when they arrived. His arms were crossed over his chest and one foot tapped against the concrete in an anxious, nervous fashion. His normally jovial grin had been replaced with a tight, drawn frown. It was obvious to anyone that the mech wasn't happy. Even the passing humans who normally took time to stop and chat with the friendly, social bot when he was out and about gave him a wide berth.

When Amy laid eyes on him, she felt a knot form in her stomach.

It was Sideswipe who tried to break the tension. "Here she is, Jazz. Safe and sound just like we promised. So," the mech shrugged the shoulder Amy wasn't sitting on and turned as if to leave, "If there'll be nothing else, we'll all just be on our way."

"Put 'er down, Sides." Jazz's tone left little room for argument and stopped the other mech in his tracks.

Sideswipe resisted, "But, Jazz..."

"Put. Her. Down."

Sunny growled, "She doesn't need you lecturing her."

Jazz cycled air slowly through his vents to calm himself. "I'm not going to lecture her but there's some things we need to discuss. Alone," he added.

Sideswipe again opened his mouth to argue but received a sharp elbow in his side from his brother.

Sunstreaker shook his head, causing his brother to shut his mouth once more. "Let her down, Sides."

Reluctantly, Sideswipe complied and gently helped the woman to the ground.

"Go back to your berthing," Jazz encouraged the pair. "Get some rest. She'll be fine."

After a moment, Sunny nodded. "Fine." He looked pointedly at Amy, "If you need us, Squishie, you know where we'll be."

Sideswipe looked less convinced, almost petulant at the idea. He knew Jazz had a strong bond with her too, but it felt to him like since they'd been back it had been one thing after another and all he really wanted to do was have a little peace and quiet with his little family without Ratchet or Jazz, or bad memories looming over their shoulders. Why was that too much to ask? Soon, he told himself. Soon this would all blow over, things would settle down, and with he and Sunny not having to worry about being shipped off to some remote corner of the world at a moment's notice they could focus on establishing some sort of domestic routine.

"Alright," Sideswipe sighed loudly, still obviously not impressed by the idea. "We'll see you soon, sweet spark."

Amy nodded, "Okay..."

"Come on," Sunstreaker nudged his brother as he turned to head off into the direction of the rec facility. "Let's grab a cube first. I'm starving."

"Yeah..." Sideswipe started to skate off after his brother, but paused. He seemed to consider something for a moment before spinning back around to face Amy. "Ah, frag it," he vented. Dropping to his knees, he reached for the woman, pulling her in against his chest plates in a careful embrace.

Surprised, Amy looked up at him and started to ask, "What are you do—mmmph!" Her question was cut off abruptly as the mech suddenly bent forward and pressed his mouth plates to her lips. Instinctively, her hands flew up, pressing into the comfortingly warm metal of his cheeks.

He lingered there for a long moment, humming in contentment. "That's better," he breathed as he fnally pullied away. He rose slowly back to his feet and looked down at her, grinning. "You know, your hair really does smell good."

Amy stuttered in shock. She was acutely aware of Jazz's sharp-eyed presence at her back taking everything in. Thankfully, the military personnel that still milled around the area hadn't given them so much as a second glance, probably due to the fact that Sunstreaker's temperamental presence seemed to repel most sensible people of the organic persuasion. Despite the flush that colored her face, her lips still tingled in that weird, electric way and she fought against the urge to dart her tongue out to see if she could catch a taste of that oddly sweet oral lubricant she remembered from the first time they'd kissed her. She shifted her wide-eyed gaze to Sunstreaker who merely smirked at her and winked before moving off in the direction he'd originally been heading.

Sideswipe gave Amy one last lingering look before shooting Jazz a sloppy salute and spinning around to take off after his brother.

Swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in her throat, she turned around slowly to face Jazz. To her astonishment, the mech seemed neither surprised nor disturbed at the public display of affection he'd just witnessed. Instead, he wore a mask of mixed worry and relief. Though his visor obscured his gaze, she could almost feel it as he carefully looked her over to ensure she really was alright. After the longest thirty seconds of Amy's entire life, he finally spoke.

"Do ya have any idea how worried I've been about ya?" Jazz shook his head, "No one had a clue where ya disappeared off to. Ya weren't answerin' your phone..."

Amy's eyes filled up and she felt her throat begin to constrict. She expected Jazz to be angry with her but she hadn't expected him to be so distressed.

"Ya can't just drop somethin' serious like that on a mech and leave," Jazz insisted in a stern voice. "What was I supposed to think? If the twins hadn't been able to find you, I don't know what I was goin' to do..." his voice trailed off.

Amy hiccoughed, her tears finally spilled over, "I-I'm sorry..."

"Aw, Scraplet," Jazz vented, his expression softening. Carefully, he lowered himself into a crouch. "Don't cry..." He spread his arms in invitation, "Come here."

Obediently, Amy stepped forward and allowed the mech to enclose her in an embrace. Though he wasn't flesh and blood, his arms were warm and comforting just the same. She pressed her cheek against his chest plates, her ear to the metal, and could hear the hum of his spark burning deep inside his chest. It seemed to ebb and flow, soothingly, just like the ocean. She sniffled and closed her eyes causing more tears to cascade down her cheeks and just listened.

"Shhh," Jazz soothed, "I'm not mad at ya, scraplet. Ya just scared me is all. Promise me," he vented, resting his chin on the top of Amy's head. "Promise me that you'll never pull a stunt like that again."

"I promise," Amy mumbled.

They remained that way for a long moment with Jazz rubbing comforting circles on her back and Amy emitting the occasional sniffle. With Sunstreaker gone, however, so was the deterrent against prying eyes. They'd drawn the attention of a couple young marines who'd happened to be passing by. The pair stopped to watch the large, alien robot hug the tiny human woman, staring as if they couldn't quite wrap their brains around the concept. Jazz noticed almost immediately, glaring in their direction and shooing them away with a 'get out of here' type of gesture.

"We need to do some serious talkin'," Jazz announced as he finally released her and rocked back on his heels. "But not here."

Amy nodded in agreement.

"First," Jazz continued with a frown, "We have a bit of business to attend to. Prime would like a word with ya since it seems that ya don't wanna be here anymore."

Amy looked up at the mech in wide-eyed horror. Despite the fact that he was of an entirely different species, she could plainly see the look of hurt that flashed across his face. Of course she had to have known her request would get back to him. She worked for him for God's sake but...there was more to it, wasn't there? They were closer than that, weren't they? She felt her heart squeeze. "Jazz, I.."

"Later, scraplet." Her reached out and ruffled her hair. "We'll talk about it later. The Boss Bot's waitin' on us."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Though every interaction Amy had had with Optimus Prime up to this point had been pleasant, she couldn't deny the sick, nervous churning in her stomach. She was almost glad she hadn't eaten anything since the morning. She certainly didn't want to add projectile vomiting on an alien faction leader to the list of bad decisions she'd made that day. She was sure she'd riled up enough trouble for herself already without creating any more.

Prime was waiting for them as they entered the hangar. The mech stood, tall and proud, right outside his office alongside Prowl. For a moment, Amy felt like she was being led in front of a judge once again to determine her fate. It was all formality, though. The decision was always already made before the evidence was even reviewed. She'd been through the system enough to know how these things went.

This train of thought, Amy realized with a start, was exactly what Sunstreaker had been talking about earlier. She did always head straight to the worst possible outcome. She had adopted a fatalistic worldview based on past experience. She'd been conditioned to think a certain way and though it may have served its purpose by shielding her from disappointment as she grew up, its usefulness in her current predicament was obsolete. The old wasn't working anymore. Something needed to change.

"Man in the Mirror," she murmured to herself as sort of a pep talk.

Jazz looked down at her, "What was that, scraplet?"

"Nothing," Amy flashed him a nervous smile. "Just remembering something the twins told me."

"Ah, gotcha," The mech nodded in understanding.

"Jazz," Optimus greeted the pair as they approached. "Petty Officer Doe, it is always good to see you."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed.

Amy took time to note that Prime didn't seem upset which she figured was a good thing. In fact, he seemed to be his usual cordial self which caused some of the tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders to ease ever so slightly. She also noted, much to her dismay, that she was still decked out in a T-shirt and pair of running shorts, her hair was a wind blown mess, and she could feel grit from the beach still stuck to her exposed skin. It wasn't exactly the presentation one wanted to make of one's self when meeting with The Optimus Prime.

She wished she'd asked the twins to take her back to the barracks in order to make herself presentable before bringing her to Jazz. She felt self-consciousness creeping in around the edges and quickly tamped it back down. Instead, she smiled politely and replied, "Thanks. You, too."

"I apologize for intruding on your evening," Prime continued. "But Jazz felt it important that we clear up some of the confusion surrounding some decisions that were made recently. There is also the matter of a transfer request that Prowl has brought to my attention. If you'd be so kind as to step into my office, I'm sure that we can find a reasonable resolution for the issues at hand."

Amy looked to Jazz and received an encouraging nod in return. "Yeah," she reluctantly agreed. "Sure."

"Excellent," Prime moved to open the door and gestured for Amy to enter.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward. She'd expected Jazz to follow but when he didn't she turned to look back. "You're not coming?"

"Jazz has recused himself," Prowl politely answered. "Conflict of interest."

"Oh," Amy frowned.

"It'll be fine, scraplet," Jazz assured. "I'll be here when you're finished."

Amy nodded hesitantly and followed Prime inside.

Prowl turned to Jazz, "We won't be long."

"Be gentle, Prowler," Jazz warned. "She's kinda fragile at the moment."

"Of course," Prowl assured his friend. "You have my word." With that, he disappeared into the office and shut the door quietly behind himself leaving the TIC to wait alone.

Though Amy had been in the space before the times she and Jazz had met with the Autobot leader, she still found herself amazed at the sheer scale of the furnishings. To be honest, she was amazed at the sheer scale of Optimus Prime, himself. The mech was more than twice as tall as Jazz and nearly twice as broad. It made her wonder if he ever stopped and marveled at just how tiny and minuscule everything was on Earth.

"Please," Prime gestured toward a set of steel stairs that led to a small seating area that would put visitors to the office at eye level once the mech himself was seated at his improbably large, custom-built desk. "Have a seat and we'll get right down to business. I promise not to keep you long."

"Yes, sir," Amy took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Prime waited for Amy to be seated before seating himself. Prowl remained standing quietly next to the raised platform. Once everyone was settled, Optimus began. "It was brought to my attention earlier today that you were in vehement disagreement regarding our decision to pull Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from the ground team rotation, is that correct?"

Amy swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes, sir."

"First, let me say that I greatly appreciate your dedication to your duties, even at great cost to yourself," the mech gave a weary sigh as if that was something he understood on a personal level all too well. "I, too, have obligations that I must fulfill. Among those duties, one of the most important undertakings is ensuring the safety and well-being of my crew and our allies whenever possible."

Amy nodded in understanding.

"Though I'm sure Ratchet was happy for the company," Optimus smiled kindly at the woman, "Your recent excursion in the med bay came completely unexpected and naturally raised quite a bit of concern among those who care for you, myself included."

Amy frowned, "I'm...sorry."

"It's no fault of your own, Miss Doe," Prowl assured. "No apologies are needed."

"Certainly not," Prime agreed. "Given the circumstances, however, we felt it necessary to take action to ensure that it didn't happen again. We reviewed all of Ratchet's medical data which surmised your illness was the result of separation from the twins. Therefore, the simplest way to prevent a recurrence is to keep the three of you together for now until we understand more about the condition."

"As Prime stated, our primary concern is and always will be the safety and wellbeing of the crew." Prowl continued, "Our biggest worry was the immediate danger posed to yourself as we still aren't too clear on the nature of this exchange you've had with the twins, nor its long term effects on the three of you. Given all the still as of yet unknown variables, we chose to err on the side of caution."

"Plus," Optimus added with an amused look, "I highly doubt even Primus himself could get the twins out into the field again if it meant you'd be in danger. They can be quite stubborn when they set their minds on something. I may be a Prime, but even my power has its limitations."

Prowl, acknowledged, "We're aware your greatest concern was that their absence from the mission rotation would somehow harm us tactically. Rest assured, that isn't the case."

"In fact," Prime agreed, "this all couldn't have happened at a better moment. I'm sure you've probably heard rumblings that Captain Lennox wasn't pleased with our decision to pull Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from the field."

Amy nodded.

"We expected resistance," the mech continued. "The Captain is well aware how effective the twins are in battle. However, with our acquisition of the Allspark shard, we've found ourselves having to reevaluate our strategic planning."

"If you hadn't noticed," Prowl interjected, "We're spread rather thin."

"Unfortunately," Prime vented in agreement. "Due to political obligations Prowl and myself can't always be here. Bumblebee tries his best but he has his own charge to look after. Jazz, and now Ironhide, are both on medical restriction so Ratchet has his hands full. That doesn't leave us with many options for reinforcing security."

"Given the importance of the shard," Prowl added, "we'd naturally want to ensure it's safekeeping. Hence, the containment facilities we've installed in the bunker."

"Beyond that," Prime continued, " we need soldiers available on the ground with the ability to tackle any unforeseen issues should they arise or the current safety measures fail. The twins possess a unique set of skills and abilities that make them perfect for such a task. By allowing them to remain in base instead of sending them out on assignment we've been able to, as you humans say, kill two birds with one stone."

"You're safe," Prowl summarized, "and so is the Allspark."

Prime folded his hands atop his desk and asked kindly, "Any other questions or concerns in regard to personnel roster changes that I can clarify for you?"

Even though she'd heard similar from the twins on the way back from the beach, she felt better about the situation hearing it straight from Prime himself. Thoroughly chastened, Amy shook her head, "No, sir."

"And are you satisfied with the decision?"

"Yes," Amy nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Wonderful," Prime smiled at the woman. "Now, would you please explain your reasoning for requesting a transfer from N.E.S.T.?"

"I guess..." Amy took a deep breath. "Based on the Information I had, I concluded that my presence was having a negative impact on your team and felt it would be in the best interest of mission goals if I wasn't here."

"Negative?" Prime frowned. "I'm sorry you feel that way Petty Officer Doe. Perhaps you are aware of something I am not. The information I've been receiving is trending quite the opposite."

Amy looked confused, "The opposite?"

"Indeed," Prime nodded. "Don't underestimate your value to the team. The project Jazz and yourself are heading is running ahead of schedule with Teletraan's integration into the defense grid. Jazz is a dear friend and colleague but, his enthusiasm had waned greatly prior to your arrival, in no small part to his current physical limitations, I'm afraid. His renewed motivation and positive outlook has much to do with your presence. He's told me as much himself."

Amy blinked, "He has?"

"As I've told you before, Miss Doe," Prowl's lip plates quirked ever so slightly into a secretive smile. "He's taken quite a shine to you."

"Indeed, he has," Prime agreed. "Jazz cares for you greatly. I'd hope that goes both ways, personally and professionally."

Amy ruminated on that for a moment and decided that, yes, it did go both ways. She'd have been hard pressed to explain it had they asked, but over the time they'd spent together, she'd grown to feel quite close to the mech. They seemed to have a familiarity with one another that extended beyond the typical working relationship. She nodded, "It does."

Prowl looked pleased with her answer.

"Good," Prime smiled. "Then, of course, there is your relationship with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."

Amy felt herself blush slightly.

"You've had quite a positive influence on them. They're good mechs," Optimus stressed. "They do, however, sometimes have the tendency to run headlong into situations without really thinking through the consequences which ends up keeping Prowl and Ratchet quite busy dealing with the aftermath."

"To say the very least," Prowl let out a weary sigh. "I'm pleased to note that in the time they've spent with you, they seem to have become more sensible and, dare I say, more responsible in their behavior."

Prime shared, "In his last written report prior to your arrival, Ratchet estimated that, on average, he was spending approximately fifteen groons per orn tending to injuries the twins received due to their various misadventures. That number has since been reduced by over two-thirds to less than five. Prowl has also noted a significant decrease in the number of incident reports he's had to submit which has, in turn, improved his productivity by seventy percent."

"Seventy-three point six percent," Prowl interjected.

"I stand corrected," Prime chuckled. "That said, the twins do feel for you deeply and, in all the time I've known them, I've not seen them more content and for that I thank you. Of course, none of these factors take into consideration the quality of your work which, I couldn't be happier with."

Amy wasn't sure what to say so she chose to say nothing as she tried to absorb everything she was being told. It seemed ridiculous, the impact they claimed she had but what purpose would it serve them to make things like that up? She wanted to believe it was true.

"Which brings us to your request for a transfer," Prime continued, taking the woman's silence as an okay to continue. "Lennox has passed your paperwork on to us and it was explained to me that in order for it to be approved, you would need a waiver signed by your Commanding Officer. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Amy nodded. The nervous lump was back in her throat again. "Yes, sir."

"Perhaps you are unaware that when the agreements were drafted with your government allowing us to remain on Earth, certain arrangements were instituted in order to facilitate the exchange of supplies and information in the most efficient way possible." Prime explained, "Under our agreement, we operate much like a foreign expeditionary unit. We retain our own command structure, rules, and regulations without subordinating ourselves to outside forces, but instead operate cooperatively within defined agreements with other allied forces such as your military."

"Okay," Amy nodded in understanding but wasn't sure what any of this had to do with her request.

Prime continued, "Strictly for clerical purposes, we fall under the umbrella of N.E.S.T., which ensures that we are able to procure the supplies, funding, and personnel necessary to carry out our mission here. However, we are, in fact, a separate entity. Though the orders transferring you from your last command indicated that you were being reassigned to N.E.S.T., you were, in fact, being reassigned to us. It was in the fine print, is how I believe the saying goes."

"What?" Amy shook her head. Transferring a human crew member into a very non-human military detachment? That wasn't any protocol she was familiar with. "But...why?"

"Your military has, at least by our standards, an unusually high turnover rate," Prowl interjected. "The average initial enlistment is right around four years in length and you, unfortunately, were about to the halfway point when Jazz found you. To remedy that and prevent a premature departure from the team, we requested that certain retention requirements be mandated in order to preserve unit cohesion."

"This team is built on a millennia of trust, friendship, and cooperation," Prime gently rumbled. "Each member has their own niche and purpose to fulfill and each is equally important to our goal and irreplaceable. Yourself included."

Amy's brows furrowed as she contemplated the mechs' words. "So, what does all this mean, exactly?"

"You're an Autobot," Prowl summarized with a small quirk of his mouth. "At least, you are on paper."

"An..." Amy blinked. "An Autobot?"

"Yes," Optimus confirmed. "Which means I am your Commanding Officer and given that there seems to be no outstanding issues impacting your duties as outlined by your direct superior and your personal relationship with your other teammates isn't causing the quality of your work to suffer, I see no grounds upon which to grant your request to separate from this unit." In his most authoritative tone Prime announced, "Your petition for transfer has been denied."

"If you'd like to challenge the decision," Prowl offered, "I'd be happy to get with you later and explain your options for redress."

"N-no..." Amy shook her head in equal parts confusion and relief. "Thanks but...I-I don't think that will be necessary."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Prime seemed pleased with her response. "For future reference, Petty Officer Doe, I do have an open door policy. Should there be anything you wish to discuss, you're always welcome."

"I..." Amy swallowed. "I'll keep that in mind."

"If there's nothing else you'd like to address at this time, you are dismissed." Prime smiled, "I'm sure Jazz has other things he's eager to talk about."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy was still in a bit of a daze as she stepped out of Prime's office. Her brain was a swirl of information, some of which was just beyond her ability to process at the moment. She did feel a great sense of relief, though. She apparently wasn't singlehandedly carrying the entire operation to Hell in a hand basket. There did seem to be a method to the madness going on around her and at the moment that was really all she could ask for.

She still felt a bit off kilter but seeing Jazz waiting for her right outside the door as he'd promised made her feel slightly more grounded. She flashed him a watery smile, "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Jazz carefully knelt down and, using one finger, delicately brushed aside some of the hair that had fallen into the woman's face. "Are we good?"

"Yeah," Amy nodded. "I think so."

"Good." Jazz smiled tiredly and motioned for the woman to follow him as he rose carefully back to his feet. "Come on, scraplet. Let's get outta here."

Amy could plainly hear the weariness in the mech's voice. It caused a lance of guilt to slash though her knowing that she was more than likely the cause. She couldn't help but notice as she obediently followed, however, that they were traveling in the opposite direction of the bunker as well as the shuttle that would take her back to her barracks.

Curiosity forced her to ask, "Where are we going?"

"Home," he replied simply. "It's been a long day and I'm exhausted."

"Oh...okay..." Amy started to inquire further but decided Jazz was right. It had been a long day and, truth be told, she felt weary all the way down to her bones. Wherever they were headed, she trusted Jazz enough to let him lead the way.

It wasn't but a few minutes later that they neared the warehouse that had been converted into housing for the Autobots. For a brief moment, she thought he may have been taking her back to the twins and her heart lifted slightly at the thought. Instead, upon entering, they turned in the opposite direction and passed through a corridor and into a small common area where the bots could choose to congregate if they didn't want to stay in their rooms. The sole occupant of said area happened to be the Autobot's scout.

Upon seeing the pair, Bumblebee chirped in greeting and waved before approaching and handing a small bag over to Jazz.

"Thanks, Bee." Jazz gave the young mech a pat on the back. "I appreciate it. I owe ya one."

Bee waived off Jazz's thanks. " _Ain't no thang,"_ a voice emanating from his speakers assured before the scout waved again and headed off to parts unknown.

Jazz chuckled as he watched him go. Then, turning to Amy, he handed her the bag. "Here ya go. I asked Bee to swing by your barracks and grab some things. I hope ya don't mind. I thought ya might wanna clean up a little."

Amy raised a brow in curiosity before opening the bag and rummaging through it. Her curiosity was quickly replaced by surprise. Inside she found her bottle of shampoo and conditioner, a bar of soap, her toothbrush and toothpaste, her hairbrush, a towel and washcloth, a pair of red flannel pajama pants she'd forgotten she'd had, a clean white T-shirt, clean socks and, at the very bottom, a clean white bra and a matching pair of panties. Immediately, Amy felt her face heat in embarrassment. "What in the...why?"

Jazz looked concerned, "He didn't miss anythin', did he? I can send him back."

"No!" Amy choked, "Looks like he pretty rummaged through everything..."

Relieved, Jazz grinned, "I knew I could count on the youngling. Come on, scraplet, I'll show you where the wash racks are."

Amy's looked up at the mech, "Wash racks?"

"Showers," he corrected. "You look like you could use a nice hot one."

Amy looked uncertain, "You want me to shower here? I can go shower in the barracks."

Jazz raised a brow, "Ya don't honestly think I'd let ya outta my sight after your little disappearing act today, did ya? The last thing ya need is to be sittin' alone in your room overthinkin' things. So yeah," Jazz confirmed, "I want ya to shower here and then we're gonna go home an' have a little chat."

Amy opened her mouth to argue but promptly shut it again. Jazz had a point about her propensity for overthinking and a steamy shower did sound heavenly. She was gritty and sticky. She felt slightly clammy due to the nervous sweat that had dried on her body. Her scalp itched and she was sure that if she dug her fingers into her hair she'd find sand clinging to the strands. Not to mention that her body ached from tension and the thought of near-scalding water sluicing over her tight muscles nearly made her moan. Then, of course, there was the fact that she didn't really want to be alone, not now, and Jazz was some of the best company she could have asked for.

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed, "you're probably right."

Jazz guided her to a huge set of swinging double doors. He held one open for as he explained, "When they installed the was racks, they tapped into existing utilities from the human shower room off to the right. There's no one in there," he continued. "Take your time. I'll wait."

Amy nodded and stepped inside. She jumped slightly as Jazz released the door causing it to swing softly shut behind her. Clutching her bag to her chest, she headed to the right and found another door that, just as Jazz had indicated, lead into a very human restroom complete with shower stalls. The lights must have been motion sensitive as they flared to life as she ventured further into the space. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. She placed the bag down onto the counter next to a row of sinks and quickly retrieved the items she needed, transferring them into the closest shower stall.

Even though Jazz had advised her she could take her time, she felt out of place in the empty space and wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. She stripped and stepped into the stall. She turned the hot water on full blast and waited for it to heat up, filling the shower with steam before stepping under the spray. The let the water saturate her hair, scratching her nails against her scalp to loosen any trapped sand before squirting a dollop of shampoo into her palm and massaging it into her wet locks. After a quick but thorough washing, she rinsed the suds out and followed up with conditioner, then immediately reached for the bar of soap. She washed her body with the same fast efficiency, rinsed, and though she would have loved to stand beneath the hot spray until it grew cold, she shut off the water and reached for the towel.

She ran the brush through her damp hair and dressed quickly, putting on the clothing Bee had somehow managed to liberate from her room. She didn't want to think on it too much. She knew the mech couldn't have done it himself and the thought of some stranger rifling through her things made her shudder. Packing away her dirty clothes and shower supplies, swung the bag back over her shoulder and made her way out of the restroom. Instead of heading straight back out to Jazz, however, curiosity got the best of her. What exactly did a shower for giant robots look like, anyway?

She stepped around to the area designated for the bots to use. Not surprisingly, the area was cavernous. It had to be in order to accommodate someone as enormous as Optimus Prime, she figured. The floor was industrial concrete coated with a blue-gray epoxy to make it smooth. Large drains about the size of manhole covers were recessed into the floor to facilitate the drainage of water. The actual showers- wash racks- reminded her of the high-powered sprayers one could find at a touchless, automated car wash. There were four large bays in total, each equipped with a panel allowing for hot and cold water control as well as another option for dispensing 'solvent'. Amy raised a brow at that but, really, the setup wasn't too different from its human counterpart. She supposed alien robots were entitled to a nice, hot shower, too.

With a sigh she turned and made her way back out the way she came. She exited, finding Jazz posted up next to the door right where he said he'd be. She gave him a sheepish smile, "All done."

"That was fast," he commented with a grin, pushing himself off the wall. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," she answered honestly. "A little."

"Good." He motioned for her to follow as he resumed their trek back down the hall. "Come on. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to call it a day."

Amy followed as he lead her deeper into the warehouse complex. It wasn't long before they came to a set of folding industrial doors similar to the ones that the twins' quarters possessed. She stood to the side and watched as Jazz keyed in a security code to disengage the lock before sliding them open.

He gestured her in with a flourish, "Ladies always first."

Without a word, Amy stepped inside and paused, taking in this new space. It was immediately obvious where she was. The walls weren't the stark white that the rest of the building seemed to be painted. Instead, someone had painted it a soft gray just a few shades lighter than the concrete floor. As in the twins room, one wall contained a built-in shelving unit. Instead of car polish, however, these shelves were stocked with what appeared to be a very sizable collection of neatly organized music CDs, vinyl records, cassette tapes and, she wasn't sure but thought she spied what may have possibly been a couple of 8 tracks. That said, a large stereo system seemed to be the focal point of the entire room and was proudly displayed along the back wall. Aside from that, a berth was pushed into one corner and next to it sat what, at least to Amy, looked like some sort of huge, dark blue bean bag chair.

A small smile pulled at Amy's lips as she turned to look up at the mech, "This is your room?"

"Yep," Jazz grinned at the woman.

"It's nice," she stated sincerely.

"It ain't fancy but it's better than floatin' around in space. Trust me." Jazz edged by her and made his way to the berth. Instead of seating himself upon it, however, he grabbed the strange, squishy-looking bean bag and dragged it out to the middle of the floor.

Amy raised a brow in question as she watched the mech gingerly sink his mass down into it. It was much bigger than she thought it was.

Jazz chuckled at her expression. "Ratchet threw this together for me," he explained. "I can't lay flat for too long. The doc says this is easier on my frame than the berth."

"Ah, gotcha." Amy nodded in understanding.

"It's also plenty big enough for two." Jazz patted a spot next to him. "Come sit, scraplet. Let's talk."

Taking a deep breath, Amy complied. It took a bit of maneuvering giving the almost gelatinous consistency of Jazz's odd, cushiony chair but she was soon settled comfortably next to the mech. She had to admit, she was a bit impressed at how comfortably it conformed around her body. Not wanting to be the first to speak, she waited patiently for Jazz to start them off.

The mech was silent for a long moment before drawing air down deep into his intakes and venting it out slowly. For the first time since Amy had known him, he retracted the visor that obscured his optics from view. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly with the heels of his hands before shifting slightly to face Amy, and leveling her with his unobstructed gaze. Though he may not have been human, his optics were no less expressive than a set of human eyes and Amy felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

"I'm sorry, scraplet," Jazz apologized sincerely. "I feel like I've let ya down."

Bewilderment colored Amy's expression, "Jazz..."

"Please," he interrupted. "Let me finish. I feel like I've failed to live up to my end of the bargain. I told ya that I always got your back. I told ya that I'd be here when ya needed me...and I wasn't. You were alone and you were hurtin' and ya needed me and I wasn't here."

Disbelieving, Amy shook her head. "You're not responsible for things that happened to me before we even knew each other existed."

"I knew somethin' was wrong," he insisted. "I knew ya had somethin' rattlin' around in that head of your's but I just let it slide. I don't expect ya to want to dredge up everythin' right now but I want ya to know that it's not true...whatever those other slaggers have told ya. Your a beautiful person, scraplet." Jazz stressed, "Inside and out. Don't ever let anyone make ya feel any different. Any creator would be proud to have ya as their sparkling...myself included, and as long as my spark's burnin' in my chest you can know for sure there's at least one person in the universe that loves ya and thinks the world of ya."

"Jazz..." Amy felt tears prick at her eyes. Twenty years of being alive and she was just hearing for the very first time that someone loved her. It was a bit overwhelming and she wasn't sure how to respond.

Jazz smoothed a hand over the top of the woman's head in a comforting gesture. "This should have been said a long time ago. I feel like me and you...we have somethin' special. A bond...like...family. I just knew...before I even met ya, I think. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Amy sniffed and nodded. It was strange how someone could feel a greater kinship with someone from an entirely different planet than with people of their own species, but she did. She hadn't been able to put words to how she felt but hearing Jazz put voice to his own feelings gave her's the validity she needed to acknowledge them. "I...feel the same way."

"I don't know that humans put the same kinda faith in things like fate or destiny that we do," Jazz continued in a soft rumble. "But I want ya to know that you're always gonna have a place here with me regardless of anythin' else that might happen. Always."

The tears did fall then. It was like some omnipotent power out there in the universe had finally decided to grant her prayers—years after her initial intercession, but still. Words she'd longed to hear her entire life came not from her own kind but from an alien who'd traveled light years through space and time just to be sitting in the same room with her. What were the chances of that being probable, let alone possible, without some other force being at work?

Amy threw her arms around the mech the best that she could manage and hugged him for all she was worth. Her ragged breath fogged his armor as she sobbed, hot tears streaming down her face. Any other time she would have been mortified by putting on such as display but this was different. The dynamics of their entire relationship had subtly shifted, small elements finally tumbling into place, which made it okay to let her guard down. Everything she'd been holding back for only God knew how long came out in a rush of emotion.

"There ya go, let it all out, scraplet," Jazz encouraged as he rubbed comforting circles on her back. "Let it all go. I'm right here. I got ya."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"One thing!" Megatron bellowed, his claw-like fingers tightening around the neck of his much-abused Second-In-Command. "I task you with one simple thing and you fail at it!"

With a snort of disgust, the Decepticon warlord slung the other mech across the room sending him crashing into a stack of old, rusty shipping containers. Unsatisfied, he continued to pace, his eyes glowing an eerie crimson in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse. A snarl played on his lip plates as he contemplated the latest in a string of tactical disappointments. Cybertron had fallen beneath his might and yet a mud ball planet full of small organics continued to resist his advances. It made no sense.

And yet, he knew exactly who was to blame.

Prime had aligned himself with the people of Earth. He had their armies and equipment at his disposal. If Megatron had his own army, as he'd had on Cybertron, there was no doubt in his processor that he'd be able to squash the human resistance like the insects they were and finally rid himself of the Autobots once and for all. To accomplish these goals, however, he needed the remaining piece of the Allspark...which brought him full circle back to Starscream and his inability to carry out even the most basic of tasks.

Starscream cowered as his leader stalked toward him one again, his intent clearly burning in his optics. He raised his hands in a vain attempt at protecting himself. He begged for mercy, "Please, Master...it-it wasn't my fault! We prepared for human resistance...we didn't expect an entire Autobot squad! The weapon specialist was there, and the scout and, and...those infernal twins!"

"Silence!" Megatron grabbed the Seeker by his throat once again, hauling him back up to his feet. "I ask for results and all you can offer is excuses!"

"Lord Megatron," Starscream choked, "if you'll give me another chance, I'll retrieve the shard! You'll have your army!"

Megatron studied the other mech for a long moment, seeming to debate the the merits of allowing his continued existence before once again dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. "You're right about one thing, my traitorous friend," Megatron rumbled, "I will have my army."

Starscream scrambled to his feet, "Yes, sire! A glorious army that shall crush the Autobots beneath its might! I'll see to it myself!"

Megatron laughed, "Oh, no, Starscream. You've had your chance. I've chosen someone more competent to carry out my next plan."

A mix of confusion, offense, and hatred warped the Air Commander's features. He never received the respect, the reverence he deserved. His brilliance was wasted on his leader. Still, when Megatron stalked toward the loading bay doors, he'd followed him out into the night. He noted Barricade was leaned up against the side of the building as they passed, still nursing the wounds he suffered at the hands of the silver twin, but not so damaged as to spare him a condescending smirk. He studiously ignored the mech, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

As Megatron continued deeper into the darkness surrounding the warehouse, Starscream felt dread enter his spark as he took note of a slight trembling beneath his feet. The sensation seemed to grow in intensity the farther they walked, until it became an almost constant rumbling. His optics scanned constantly over the landscape, seeking the source of the disturbance even though he was fairly certain of the cause. He was so focused on this task that he nearly plowed into Megatron when the mech came to a sudden stop. Much to his horror and disgust, a large, crater-like hole began to open in the ground before them.

Starscream shuddered as, out of the dark, cavernous space, the enormous form of a Driller emerged. The tentacled beast rose above them, its ragged, open maw still crunching and crushing the rock and Earth it had excavated. It's thick, worm-like body coiled round and round pushing ever upward out of the depths. Rising from darkness like Hades ascending from the Underworld, Shockwave came into view. The entire scene was as awe inspiring as it was horrifying.

Starscream knew Shockwave well. The mech was the very definition of a killing machine, a cold, emotionless husk that operated solely on logic. The mech seemed to thrive on violence and where he and his pet went, death and destruction followed close behind. It was no secret that Shockwave was one of the very few in existence who could rival Megatron for power should he want it. Though Starscream loathed his leader, the idea of Shockwave taking up the mantle instead made his energon run cold in his lines. He'd hoped never to have to face the mech again. Long ago, Megatron had left him on Cybertron to oversee what small contingent of Decepticon forces remained there. For him to show up on Earth spoke volumes of their leader's growing desperation.

"Shockwave," Megatron greeted. "You're arrival couldn't have come at a better time."

"Lord Megatron," Shockwave retuned his leader's greeting with a bowing of his head. "I stand ready to execute your command."

"You see, Starscream," Megatron grinned, his jagged, serrated denta shining in the moonlight. "That is the proper way to address your superior, not with whining and insipid excuses."

Starscream bit his glossa to prevent a scathing retort from escaping. Instead, he tried to focus on the situation in order to ferret out some way to twist it to his advantage.

Megatron pressed on, "You know why you've been summoned?"

"To restore the glory of the Decepticon Army," Shockwave rumbled. "To subjugate the inhabitants of Earth. To annihilate the Autobot presence."

Booming, almost maniacal laughter emanated from deep within Megatron's chassis. "Yes!"

Starscream seethed in silence.

"The Allspark was destroyed," Megatron informed his newly arrived Commander. "Yet, a small piece still remains. With it, we could rule this dirt ball of a planet!"

Shockwave's single, crimson optic glowed ominously in the dark, "Then you shall have it."

 **End of Chapter 37**


	38. Chapter 38

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 38**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a great day and that you had a fantastic holiday. I hope you're ready for something happy and fluffy because I certainly am. I need a breather. There may even be an awkward misunderstanding in here somewhere for you guys. Filler mostly but I promise that there is a method to my madness. We're building to something here, people! Thank you to those who've added this story to their alerts and follows and especially to my fantastic reviewers: SunnyandSidesFemme17, jgoss, 'Guests', shizzlethis1, Quickening, Assassin In Black 1783, jellybeanz513, monkeybaby, adelphe24, Malkah5967, KayleeChiara, xIliadx (thanks for catching my typo!), Deimoss, aquarius89, poppycakes, Leonixon (you're too kind!), Anonymous, HalfwayParanoid, shelby20125 (I'm not trying to troll you, I promise), Sweet Sprinks, BarricadesDemon216, and the everchanging.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"I'm telling you," the marine told his buddy. "Me and Davis seen it with our own eyes."

The other marine looked unconvinced. "Stop bullshitting."

"I'm not," the first marine put his hands up in a defensive manner. "I swear. You can ask Davis if you don't believe me. It was definitely a hug."

"So what if he was hugging her?" The second man shrugged, "People hug all the time. Hell, you hugged me a couple days ago. I don't see what the big deal is."

"I'm just saying," the first man insisted, "they seemed pretty cozy, if you know what I mean."

"Man, shut your fucking mouth." The second marine admonished the first, "Don't be ridiculous. This is how rumors get started. He's a goddamn giant robot from another planet for Christ's sake. What in your twisted, little mind makes you think any of them could possibly look at a human like that? We're, like, made out of meat, dude. Even I find that creepy if I think about it too hard. Imagine how that must seem to them."

The first marine looked sheepish, "Well, when you put it that way...I...I guess you're right." The marine chuckled, "It does seem pretty ridiculous..."

Lennox had been passing through, minding his own business, when he'd caught the tail end of the marines' peculiar conversation. He had to agree, it was ridiculous, but he couldn't help but think of all the oddness he'd been privy to as of late. The Autobots pretty much policed themselves which made his job a whole hell of a lot easier but it had been an entire week since the lone human on their payroll had come to him nearly begging him to sign a transfer request and he'd heard nothing from her since other than the usual interactions for musters and reports and such. On those occasions she'd seemed perfectly professional and content. There was no sign of the distressed young woman from before. It was weird but not the only weirdness.

There was the question of her previously going missing for over an entire week under the guise of some sort of project Jazz had her working on. The mech, too, had been MIA for much of the same time. Lennox assumed they'd been together working somewhere on base. Anytime he'd inquired about their whereabouts he'd always gotten the same canned response no matter who he asked. They seemed to be treading very lightly where the pair were concerned and he couldn't to save his life figure out why. There was also the way Jazz had acted when he'd brought Doe's transfer request to his attention. He'd never seen the usually upbeat, jovial bot behave in such a distraught manner. Throw in Prowl's strange commentary about some sort of "domestic situation" and the word of an eyewitness who saw the pair in question getting "cozy" after the fact and, well, it made a man start to wonder.

Lennox's line of thought took him down avenues he wasn't sure he wanted to explore too deeply. He tried to stay out of his soldiers' personal lives to the greatest extent possible. There were certain situations, however, in which it was his duty to intervene so as to prevent any unforeseen consequences from jumping up and biting them in the ass later. They had rules against fraternization for a reason, after all. If something were transpiring between Petty Officer Doe and the Autobot's Third in Command, as improbable as it sounded to a rational human being, it could have far-reaching consequences, perhaps intergalactically for all he knew. That wasn't something he felt comfortable just leaving up to chance.

He glanced at his watch quickly, deciding that he had plenty of time before his scheduled noon vid call with General Moreshower to check in with the pair and hopefully put his own mind at ease. As he left the hangar and headed in the direction of the bunker, a shadow suddenly fell over him as he walked quickly along. He looked up to find Sideswipe slowly skating along beside him, a large crate tucked under one arm.

"Hey, Lennox," the mech greeted. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Uh, hey Sideswipe," Lennox returned. "Just heading over to the bunker to check in and see if I can catch Jazz."

"I'm headed that way, too. I'll walk with you." Sides patted the box he carried. "I have one last package to deliver."

Lennox eyed the crate, "Is that from the supply offload this morning? You and Sunstreaker knocked that out really fast."

"Yep," the mech grinned. "What can I say? We were highly motivated to finish early today."

"Yeah, I guess so..." Lennox trailed off. His earlier thoughts slowly creeping back in as they drew nearer to their destination. He glanced up at Sideswipe, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," the mech amicably agreed. "Shoot."

Lennox asked, "You know Jazz pretty well, right?"

"Yeah." Sides nodded, "I'd say so. Why?"

"Would you say he and Petty Officer Doe are on good terms? That they're, uh...friendly?"

"Good terms?" Sideswipe chuckled, "I don't think friendly is really the right word for it. Have you seen them together? Those two adore one another. I think it's pretty obvious."

"Adore?" Lennox looked both slightly surprised and concerned. "You mean adore or, like... _adore_?"

Sides scrunched his face plates in confusion. "Is there a difference? You don't look like you think that's a good thing either way."

Lennox sighed. This was not a conversation he'd been planning to have when he got up this morning. "I mean, you don't think it's weird? You guys would actually be okay with something like that happening?"

"Uh," Sideswipe shook his head. "You lost me, Lennox. What are we talking about? Something like what?"

"Their, you know..." the Captain fidgeted uncomfortably. "Relationship."

"Ah," The mech nodded and shrugged, "Yeah, it's been a really great thing for both of them. Everyone thinks so. Jazz is more like his old self than he's been in vorns and Ames is happy. Everybody's a winner. Why wouldn't we be okay with it?"

"Right," Lennox grimaced as they finally arrived at the freight elevator. "Why wouldn't you be?"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy hummed a catchy Cybertronian melody to herself, the tune to a song that Jazz had found deep within Teletraan's data archives and seemed to favor, as she did her midday walkthrough of the spaces she and Jazz were responsible for maintaining. She moved slowly between the banks of computers in the main room, carefully scrutinizing the monitor displays to make sure the uplinks to Teletraan were secure and the information being received accurate. She carried a data pad Prowl had provided her with that had been modified to accommodate her much smaller stature and allowed her to keep him updated on their system status in real time. She swiped through the checklist she was currently working on for the SIC, confirming everything was in order.

It had been a long, emotional week but Amy was feeling pretty good about it so far. She felt lighter somehow but also more aware of her own thoughts and feelings. It helped that she had, at the very least, three people that reminded her to take it easy and breathe when she felt her worries start to get the best of her. She wasn't going to lie and say it was easy. It wasn't. Twenty years of constantly being on her guard made it difficult to just stand back and let life happen to her. It left her feeling vulnerable and exposed and took a very concentrated effort on her part to not overthink and over analyze every little thing but she was really trying. The reward, she kept telling herself when she was feeling unsure, outweighed the risk and that was usually enough to "knock her aft into gear", as Sunstreaker would say.

Her relationship with Jazz had taken on a new dimension. The mech had more or less officially appointed himself as her guardian which no one seemed to take issue with or dispute. The other Autobots had accepted his declaration as easily as they accepted everything else, Prime even going so far as to make it a matter of official record. Admittedly, she wasn't as familiar with Cybertronian customs as she probably should have been given her circumstances. The way she understood it, guardianship was a pretty big commitment that came with a whole slew of responsibilities that weren't to be taken lightly. It was the closest thing to having a sparkling of your own in the sense that you became solely responsible for the well-being and welfare of the individual placed in your care. She wasn't sure on all the particulars but had learned it was considered to be both an honor and a privilege in their culture to even be considered for such a position and Jazz had approached it with a gusto and enthusiasm that had surprised even Prowl.

It was almost surreal, suddenly having someone there after all this time who genuinely cared and was invested in her welfare and well-being...mentally, physically, and emotionally. Not that he hadn't been there before but now their arrangement seemed to have a strange air of permanence that it hadn't had before. Jazz seemed to get just as much out of it as she did and had settled most comfortably into his new role. He was firm but fair when it came to his expectations but above all he was warm and affectionate. It was, at least in Amy's mind, how she'd always imagined having a parent would be, albeit, in this case her parent was actually a large, robotic guardian from another planet. The arrangement would take some getting used to but for the most part they'd each fell easily into their assigned roles.

Her relationship with the twins had undergone subtle changes, as well. It was harder for her to pinpoint exactly what was different but it brought a smile to her lips and a pleasant warmth to her chest whenever she thought of them. One thing she did notice was that Sideswipe seemed more...emboldened, she supposed was the right word. Though he hadn't surprised her with another spur of the moment kiss, he was more openly affectionate with her, especially in the presence of the other bots. This, of course, played into her self-consciousness but she really seemed to be the only one that minded. The others simply treated it as accepted and expected behavior. On some level it soothed her ragged nerves to know that he cared enough to let other people know he cared. Surprisingly, once she'd begun not to worry so much over what others might be thinking she found herself able to accept, even enjoy, some of his milder flirtations without feeling so scandalized.

Then, there was Sunstreaker. It was hard for her to believe that not so long ago she'd been absolutely terrified of him. Granted, the two of them had gotten off to a very rocky start. The more time she spent with him, though, the more she kind of understood what made him tick. They weren't so different, really. Sunstreaker, too, operated from a place of self preservation. Except, in his case, the barriers he threw up were cast wide enough to also encompass those closest to him within their protective walls as well, particularly his brother. He took his responsibility for those he cared about very seriously and, much to her surprise, she'd also somehow found herself under his vigilant watch as well. She'd discovered that there seemed to be two distinct facets to the mech's personality: the one everyone could see, and another strictly reserved for those quiet moments he spent with those who meant the most to him. Sunstreaker could be brutally honest, foul-mouthed, and moody at times but she was beginning to see the truth in Sideswipe's initial description of his twin. He was nothing if not loyal and devoted.

Life was still very much a work in progress. The foundation seemed strong. The framework was there. It was just going to take time to build up the structure. Time and a lot of patience.

Amy bit back a yawn and checked her watch. Though things seemed to be slowly improving in many aspects of her existence, sleep, unfortunately, still remained elusive. What time she did manage to rest continued to be plagued by a strange feeling of separation from herself, boundless darkness, and an alien, disembodied voice chattering words she couldn't even begin to understand. She would try to hold on to the sounds as she woke, hoping to remember enough to maybe ask Jazz or the twins what they meant but it seemed as soon as consciousness filled her the strange words fled. It was frustrating and she was exhausted but making do.

The sound of the elevator beginning to descend caught her attention. She watched expectantly, data pad tucked under one arm, figuring it was Jazz returning from his meeting with Prowl. When the doors rolled open and Sideswipe emerged, however, her heart did a peculiar little flip- something it seemed to be doing more and more often as of late- and she couldn't help the smile that brightened her previously tired countenance.

"Ames!" The mech greeted her happily with a grin of his own.

"Hey," she sat her data pad down and moved toward the mech, meeting him halfway. "I thought you guys were going to be tied up all day with supplies."

Sides shrugged, "We finished up early so...here I am."

Amy opened her mouth to say something else but the clearing of a throat interrupted her.

"Oh," Sideswipe chuckled. Seeing Amy, he'd completely forgotten about Lennox. "The Captain's looking for Jazz."

Amy blushed slightly, just noticing the man for the first time. He hung back about fifteen feet, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the clean, brightly lit data center with an impressed look on his face. Regaining her military bearing, she approached and greeted, "Captain Lennox, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"OS2," Lennox returned with a nod of his head. He couldn't help but look the woman over carefully, searching for anything that may be out of place. He tried to hone in on anything that could either confirm or deny his bizarre suspicions. He could find nothing out of sorts, however. She was professional and put together neatly, per usual.

Sideswipe frowned at the man's intense scrutiny.

Amy fidgeted uncomfortably, "Um, if you're looking for Jazz, he hasn't come back from his meeting with Prowl yet. I can call him, if you'd like?"

Lennox shook himself back to attention. "No, that's alright. I can get with him later. No big deal." He turned his attention back to room, trying to cover for the fact he'd been staring at the poor woman like she'd sprouted an extra head. "The last time I was down here this place looked like a dark, dank cave. It cleaned up really nice."

"Yeah," Amy relaxed slightly, smiling. "It all came together really well. The structure was sound so really most of the work was cosmetic."

"That's a lot of computers," the Captain absently commented.

"They're all linked to Teletraan," Amy supplied. "United Combatant Commands, Joint Forces Command, US Fleet Forces Command, DTSA, USCC, DISA, DIA, NGA, all DoD and military entities, NORAD, NASA, the whole alphabet basically...all the info they gather filters through here. Teletraan analyzes it and alerts us if anything seems fishy. It's pretty awesome, actually."

"Sounds like it." Lennox turned back to the woman and awkwardly changed the subject. "So, uh, I've been meaning to ask you, what ever came of your request to transfer? I haven't heard anything else about it."

"Oh," Amy shrugged, "it, uh, it ended up being denied."

"Denied?" Lennox crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Prime said there weren't any grounds to grant it but, it's okay. Everything got worked out anyway."

"Are you sure?" Lennox looked skeptical. "You seemed pretty adamant about getting out of here."

"You know how femmes are, Lennox," Sideswipe interjected, trying to ease the strange underlying tension Lennox had brought into the room with him. "Always changing their minds at a moment's notice..."

Amy turned to glare at the mech in mock anger.

Sides held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and grinned cheekily back at her.

Lennox ignored them both. "Do you need me to talk to Prime? Maybe I can change his mind."

"What?" Amy's eyes widened as she turned back to the Captain. "No, everything is fine, really. It was all just a big understanding. Bad communication."

"Are you sure?" Lennox eyed the woman carefully. "If there's anything going on you want to talk about..."

"No," she vehemently denied, "nothing's going on. Like I said, there was a big mixup but we were able to straighten it all out."

Lennox still looked uncertain.

Sideswipe's brow plates furrowed. Watching this whole exchange was making him increasingly uncomfortable and he got the distinct feeling that Lennox was dancing around something. It was making Amy anxious and he definitely didn't like that at all. He rumbled in a low, dangerous tone, "Drop it, Lennox. She said she's fine."

Surprised, Lennox looked at the mech for a long moment. Again, he got the feeling that something was amiss, not quite what it seemed. He briefly considered calling the mech out but thought better of it. Sideswipe wasn't the one he needed to be discussing this with anyway. He sighed, "Fine." He turned to Amy and said in a serious voice, "If you change your mind _again_ , you know where to find me."

Looking slightly rattled, Amy nodded, "Yes, sir."

With that, Lennox turned on his heel and strode back toward the elevator. He pressed the call button harder than was necessary and cast a look back at the pair as the doors rolled open and he stepped inside. With a final nod of farewell, Lennox pressed the button that would take him back up to the surface. The doors rolled shut, and the elevator once again began its ascent.

"Primus," Sideswipe vented as the elevator doors finally shut. He turned to Amy and dropped into a crouch. "I thought he'd never leave."

Amy still stared at the elevator doors, gnawing on her bottom lip in a worried fashion. "That was very strange," she murmured.

"Humans are very strange," Sideswipe quipped with a raised brow, baiting the woman in hopes of distracting her from the odd atmosphere Lennox had left in his wake.

"Hey!" Amy laughed. Reaching out, she softly smacked the mech on the knee. "I resent that!"

Sideswipe chuckled. Mission accomplished. Honestly, it made him happy to see her in better spirits. He carefully caught her much smaller hand in his own and gave a gentle tug, pulling her closer. He drew her attention to the crate he still cradled beneath one arm. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you I brought you a present?"

"Mmm..." She pretended to consider for a moment. "It depends. What is it?"

"I'm not exactly sure," the mech admitted with a shrug as he placed the crate down in front of him. "I pulled it off the truck as an excuse to come see you." With a mischievous twinkle in his optics, he asked, " Wanna find out what's in it?"

"Sure," Amy nodded, blushing slightly. "Open her up." She stood back and watched as he easily accomplished in two seconds what would have taken her several agonizing minutes and a crowbar, popping the top off the crate as easily as tearing through a piece of tissue paper. She couldn't help but be a bit envious.

Sideswipe sat the lid of the crate aside and began to dig through the styrofoam packing peanuts inside. After a moment, he rocked back on his wheels and frowned. "Alright," he vented disappointedly. "So...not the best present ever."

Amy stepped forward and peered down into the crate. Bending down to brush some of the packing materials aside, she couldn't contain a soft snort of amusement at the boxes full of canisters of compressed gas Jazz had ordered a few days ago to help keep all the computers clean and dust-free. "Air in a can. Just what I always wanted."

"To be fair," the mech teased, "you did tell me that it was the thought that counts."

"So I did." Amy sighed, an amused smile pulled her lips. "Thank you, Sideswipe. I shall cherish them always..." She looked thoughtful for a moment, "Or at least until they're empty and I have to throw them away and order more."

"Smart aft," he chuckled as he rose from the floor. "Where do you want them, sweet spark?"

"You can put them in the hall storage closet," Amy instructed with a smile. She grabbed her data pad and followed the mech as he picked up the crate moved off into the direction she'd indicated. She keyed the blast door open for him and then stood aside as he helpfully unpacked everything, neatly stacking the boxes on a shelf inside of the large closet across the hall from the office. She leaned against the wall, simply watching him work, and felt her heart do that strange, little flip again.

"I have a confession to make," Sides stated as he slid the last box onto the shelf and closed the door. He turned to face the woman, gingerly lowering himself back down into a crouch. Tenderly, he reached out and ran his knuckles across her cheek. "I didn't come here just to deliver a box."

Amy felt her breath catch in her throat, "You didn't?"

"Nope." He smiled and opened his arms in invitation. "Come here."

Amy obliged, allowing Sideswipe to wrap her in a comforting embrace which she did her best to return. It was becoming easier, these displays of affection. The awkwardness seemed to be lessening slightly with time...and Amy knew that it should have been very, very awkward. Despite their sheer differences in scale, it worked, somehow. It was more than just size difference, though. Amy wouldn't say that she'd been starved for affection her whole life but she'd certainly come not to expect it and had learned to live without it. She wasn't sure how things like this were supposed to work and so had resigned herself to more or less following everyone else's lead. So far, it seemed to be working. More and more, she'd found herself enjoying Sideswipe's attentive touches, Sunstreaker's seeming fascination with her "squishiness", and Jazz's ruffling of her hair each time he'd pass by-even though it usually meant having to redo her hair each time he wandered by.

Amy made herself relax in the mech's hold, molding herself the best she could against his harder angles. She could feel the warmth his spark radiated against her cheek and hear its subtle hum from where it lay deep within his chest. It had its own unique rhythm and cadence, much different than what she'd come to associate with Jazz. She recognized it as being uniquely Sideswipe. She wondered absently if Sunstreaker's sounded similar, being split-sparked as they were. She hadn't been close enough to the mech lately to get a good listen but she supposed not. They may have been twins but they were certainly two very, very different people. She let the thought slide and focused solely on rhythmic pulsations of what she understood to be his very life force.

"It's been a hectic few days," Sideswipe admitted as he gently ran his fingertips up and down her back in a soothing gesture. "For all of us. Especially for you."

Amy hummed partially in agreement and partially because the soft, steady sounds beneath her ear threatened to lull her into much needed sleep.

"So," Sides continued, "I was thinking that it may be nice to get out of here for a bit. Get a little sunshine, you know?"

Amy nodded even as her eyes drifted shut. The reverberation of his voice through his frame only added to her feeling of coziness and she wanted him to keep talking. She could feel the promise of a deep, restful sleep tugging at her and it was hard to resist.

"It's a beautiful day," he stated as-a-matter-of factly. "And I'd like to take you out to lunch. What do you say, sweet spark? You up for it?"

Amy foggily realized that he was waiting for some kind of response. She forced her eyes back open and raised her head to looked up to the mech, "You want to drive me to the chow hall?"

"No," Sideswipe chuckled. "I said I wanted to take you out for lunch. I didn't say anything about the chow hall."

Amy raised a brow in curiosity. "So...?"

"So," he grinned. "Do you want to go or not? I promise to make it worth your while."

Though it would have been nice just to stand there and take a much needed nap, it was nearing lunch time. Plus, Sideswipe wasn't exaggerating when he said it'd been hectic. Wars, unfortunately, didn't stop just because your life was an emotional avalanche and you needed a breather. There was work that needed to be done. With the Allspark shard and the potential threat of Decepticons, there wasn't time to slack off or be lax. That meant personal time had become scarce and time spent together was at a premium. She couldn't let the opportunity pass her by since there was no telling when it would come around again.

"Yes," Amy nodded and smiled back up at the mech. "I'd love to. Just let me grab my cover out of the office and leave a note for Jazz."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Lennox knew he probably should have followed Sideswipe's advice and dropped the whole thing. Morbid curiosity, however, spurred him on. He didn't have a clue what he'd even do about it should his suspicions bear any fruit. It was strange to say the least and certainly unnatural. He wasn't even sure how something like that would even work. What could they possibly even see in each other outside of friendly camaraderie? What could a giant robot and a human possibly have in common when it came to those matters? Honestly, he wasn't even sure if the bots did/could engage in those sorts of activities and he really didn't care to find out but it wasn't something he could ignore on the off chance that it caused problems later.

He checked his watch again. He still had time. He headed toward the hangar that housed Prowl's office- Jazz's last known whereabouts. Mirage greeted him as he entered. The bot seemed a bit high strung in his opinion but was friendly enough. Lennox waved back but didn't stop to engage the infiltrator in conversation. He glanced to the other side of the hangar, noting one absence in particular. It was strange not seeing Ironhide posted up in his usual spot cleaning his cannons and he reminded himself that he needed to swing by the med bay later to check on his friend.

The door to Prowl's office was slightly ajar as he approached and from his vantage point he could see the SIC sitting poised behind his desk. A couple steps closer and he could see Jazz lounging in a seat next to the desk seeming more relaxed and at ease than Lennox had ever seen given his condition. Jazz was doing most of the talking in that strange, alien language the bots spoke and gesturing articulately with his hands. Whatever he was saying must have been highly amusing because Prowl's normally stoic countenance cracked into an actual smile and Lennox could have sworn he heard a low chuckle emanating from deep within the mech's chassis. It was so unexpected from the always-serious mech that it threw him for a moment and he had to take a second to remember why he'd come here in the first place.

Gathering his wits about him, Lennox balled his fist and rapped on the doorframe with his knuckles. The action had the desired affect. An air of seriousness settled over the office as the mechs took notice of his presence. Prowl once more resumed the persona of the stony-faced SIC while Jazz sat up straighter giving the impression of being at full attention.

"Captain Lennox," Prowl greeted as the man moved into the room. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Hey, Prowl," Lennox returned. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, obviously uncomfortable. "I was actually hoping to speak with Jazz for a minute."

"I'm all audios," Jazz chimed. "What's on your mind, Will?"

"Uh," Lennox cleared his throat, his eyes cutting over to where Prowl sat, attentively watching the scene play out. "It's kind of private...I think..."

"Aw," Jazz chuckled. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of Prowler. We've been friends long enough that he's gonna hear about whatever it is ya have to say anyway."

"Right..." Lennox shuffled his feet and tried to wrap his head around what he wanted to say. He supposed it was best to just do it and get it over with. "I, uh, I don't want you to think that this is in anyway personally against you. I think you're a great guy. I'm glad you're here and I've really enjoyed working with you. You're the best at what you do. You're an asset, not just to the Autobots, but my team as well. You really know how to boost morale and-"

"I'm flattered, Will," Jazz chuckled, cutting the man off. "But I know you're not here just to tell me how awesome I am...even if it is true."

Prowl, though trying to appear as if he was engrossed in the stack of data pads on his desk in order to give the pair an illusion of privacy, hummed in amusement.

"What's really crossing your wires? " Jazz asked the man. "Lay it on me. I'm a grown mech. I can handle it."

"Alright...I have some concerns," Lennox sighed. "Regarding your...affiliation with Petty Officer Doe."

Suddenly, it seemed as if all levity had been sucked out of the room. Jazz grew serious, almost frighteningly so. Prowl's head snapped up and he sat up straighter, if it were even possible. Data pads forgotten, the SIC's optics honed back in on the soldier as a look of worried concern creased his face plates. Lennox found himself wishing he could stuff the words back into his mouth and carry on as if nothing had ever happened. It was too late now, however. The damage was done.

Jazz's voice took on a timbre Lennox hadn't heard before. "What do you mean affiliation?"

"Your...relationship." _Dammit_ , Lennox berated himself. _Your a goddamn soldier...just get it over with._ He lifted his chin. He could do this. "The nature of your relationship," he clarified.

Jazz raised a brow plate, "The nature of our relationship?"

"Look," Lennox raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I'm not trying to start any trouble. I'm just trying to ward off problems before they start and things get out of hand. I know you guys are far from home and that you've been fighting this damn war for God only knows how long. I can admit that Petty Officer Doe is a sweet, lovely, young woman and after everything you guys have been through I can completely understand the appeal. However, given the circumstances I'm sure we can all agree that this could aggravate an already delicate situation. I don't know how you guys handle these matters back on Cybertron but our military has rules against this sort of thing. Not to mention how it'd look to the higher ups to have a human service member and an Autobot engaged in, uh, intimate relations."

"Intimate relations..." Realization over what the man was getting at washed over the mech. Jazz laughed out loud. "Wait...hold on a klik, Will. Are you implying that the scraplet and I are involved _romantically_?"

"Oh, Primus," Prowl muttered, pinching the bridge of his nasal plates with his fingers.

Lennox looked back and forth between the mechs and felt his face grow hot, "Are you saying you're not? You two are practically joined at the hip. You disappeared together for an entire week. She get's all upset and wants to transfer out. Prowl's going on about a domestic disturbance. A little while later, a couple marines see you two getting friendly and suddenly she's not interested in leaving anymore. To top it off, right before I came over here Sideswipe was telling me all about how much you two adore each other and what a great thing it is that you're together."

"Sideswipe..." Prowl's left optic twitched, "And where is he now?"

"I left him down in the bunker with Petty Officer Doe," Lennox looked confusedly between the mechs. "He was dropping off supplies."

Jazz chuckled and shook his head. "He drops off a lot of supplies."

"I'm sure he does." Prowl cleared his vocal processor and gave his friend a warning look before asking Lennox, "Did you raise your concerns with the two of them?"

"Of course not," Lennox denied. "I didn't think it would have been appropriate to put her on the spot with Sideswipe standing right there."

"That's probably for the best," Prowl vented in relief. "The poor femme would have more than likely been absolutely mortified."

"Look, Will, I'm gonna be completely honest with you," Jazz leaned forward in his seat to better look the soldier in the eye, propping his elbows on his knees. "Sides is right, I do adore the kiddo. More than anythin'."

Lennox swallowed, "You do?"

"Absolutely," Jazz grinned and leaned back in his chair, once again at ease. "I couldn't love her any more if I'd sparked her myself. I adore her the same way you adore little Annabelle. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

"So," Lennox blinked as the mech's words sank in, "you two aren't...together?"

"Not in the way you're thinkin'," Jazz assured the man. "Believe me when I say that, as far as I'm concerned, that's somethin' ya don't have to worry about. She's like the sparkling I never knew I wanted. You have a little one. You know how it is. Sometimes they get upset and then ya have to comfort them. It's what creators do. We're...family."

"Family?" Will blinked up at the mech.

"Yep," Jazz confirmed. "Just hit a rough patch but we got it smoothed over. It's all good."

"Thank, God," Lennox nearly laughed with relief. "You had me worried there for a minute. I thought..." He shook his head. "I don't know what I thought to tell you the truth."

"Out of curiosity, Captain, would it have been so bad if they were involved?" Prowl pressed, "Are they not both legally consenting adults of sound mind and body with the right to engage in relationships with one another as they see fit? Do humans have other prerequisites for establishing intimate relations we're not aware of? We've done our best to familiarize ourselves with your customs via your internet to help us integrate into your culture but perhaps this is something that's escaped our understanding."

"Uh, well..." Lennox ran a hand through his hair. The relief he felt at having his suspicions dispelled was nearly a physical thing but was being dampened by this new line of questioning. "I mean, you're not wrong but...just because you can do something doesn't mean you should, you know? That..it would...it couldn't...it's not natural."

"Ah," Prowl nodded. "I believe I understand. Your species has a history of governing relationships between individuals based on trivial factors such as race, ethnicity, biology, social status and religion. This sort of arrangement would fall under that sort of scrutiny, correct?"

Lennox became slightly flustered. He didn't like the tangent this conversation had veered off on. In fact, there was nothing about this conversation that he did like. "With all due respect, I don't think that's a really fair comparison. Denying people the right to be together based on the color of their skin or their sexuality is wrong. We're talking about two different species here. One is small and organic and the other is huge and made out of machinery. You can't tell me you don't see something wrong, or at least really unsettling, about that."

"Perhaps that is where our species truly differ, Captain." Prowl pressed a hand to his chest plates. "We need only to retract a couple of panels in order to see past our own physical bodies to get a glimpse of what truly makes us who we are. Humans have no such luxury which I do find quite unsettling. Though, some of you do seem more adept at seeing beyond the confines of your flesh than others."

"I, uh," Lennox squirmed uncomfortably under the mech's intense gaze. "I didn't mean any offense."

"None taken." Prowl folded his hands atop his desk. "I was simply making an observation."

Lennox opened his mouth to say more but was stopped as his watch beeped. Cursing under his breath, he addressed the two mechs. "Look, I have an afternoon vid call with the General to get to. I do want to apologize, though...for the misunderstanding. Regulations and all that bullshit, you know? But," the soldier stressed, "I am sorry. No hard feelings?"

"We're cool, Will," Jazz assured the man. "No worries."

"Alright," Lennox sighed in relief. "Well, uh, I'll just be going then and again, I am sorry."

"Take it easy," Jazz bid the man farewell. "Say hi to the General for us."

"Will do," Lennox assured as he hustled his way back out the way he came, eager to be out of the awkward situation.

There was a long moment of silence, the seconds ticking by until both bots were sure the Captain was out of ear shot. Prowl rose from his seat, quickly coming around his desk to pull the office door shut.

"Cybertron below me," the SIC uttered. "This is not good, Jazz."

"You're tellin' me," the other mech shook his head. "Can ya believe he actually had the ballbearings to accuse me of messin' around with the scraplet?"

"I was referring to the fact that she is indeed involved with, not one, but two mechs," Prowl made his way back to his seat. "And brothers to be more exact."

"Aw, Prowler," Jazz grimaced. "It sounds so dirty when ya put it that way. Let's not make this into somethin' it isn't. They're twins. That's a completely different scenario."

"I know but I doubt our human counterparts would be able to grasp the difference." Prowl sighed, "In all seriousness, you may want to have a word with them, Jazz. Humans...they aren't as accepting as we are. The less who know about their relationship, the better off they'll be in the long run."

"Yeah," Jazz reluctantly agreed. "You're probably right. It's been rough but I think they've finally started off down the right track. I'd hate for anyone to come along and mess things up. I'll talk to 'em, make sure they stay under the radar."

"I'm not too worried about Sunstreaker, reserved as he is," Prowl added. "Miss Doe has a good head on her shoulders and is intelligent enough to understand that not everyone will look upon this relationship in a favorable light. Sideswipe, however..." Prowl shook his head. "That poor mech may as well be wandering around with his chest plates wide open."

"You can say that again," Jazz chuckled. "That mech has it real bad. Sunny, too, for that matter but he'd probably go without a buff for a month before he'd admit it. Amy..." a fond smile lifted the corners of his mouth, "I think she's still a little overwhelmed by it all but she's slowly comin' around. They just need some time. I think...I think they're gonna be okay. I just worry, is all."

"Get used to it, Jazz," Prowl smirked. "Worry comes with the territory."

Jazz flashed the mech a lopsided grin, "That's what everyone keeps tellin' me."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Uh uh, hands off, sweetspark," Sideswipe gently scolded the woman that sat in his driver's seat. "I said no peaking."

With a huff of resignation, Amy stopped tugging at the blindfold the mech had coaxed her into wearing and let her hands fall back down into her lap. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," the silver twin insisted, mirth coloring his voice. "I told you, it's a surprise."

"I hate surprises," Amy murmured under her breath.

"You'll love this one," Sides assured with a chuckle. "I promise."

She half-smiled as she relaxed back into the seat, "If you say so..." She been doing her best to keep up with all the twists and turns as they meandered their way across the base. She tried to plot their location using the map in her head but she was getting the distinct impression that the mech was doing his best to throw her off. At one point she was fairly certain that they'd been driving in literal circles. That said, she had absolutely no clue where they were.

They settled into a comfortable silence. The only sounds being that of the high performance engine that purred beneath Sideswipe's hood and the radio he had set to a modern rock station playing quietly in the background. Amy, far more interested in the mech than anything that could possible be broadcast over the air, focused on the former. Her fingers grasped loosely at the steering wheel. She may not have been able to see but she could certainly feel both the vibrations from the engine and the road beneath them as Sides drove, the wheel moving slightly beneath her fingertips as the mech made minute corrections to their course of wound their way across the base for about another ten minutes before the car finally began to slow, eventually rolling to a complete stop.

"Alright," Sideswipe happily chirped. "I've got the all clear. You are now free to exit the vehicle."

"Yay," Amy reached for the blindfold as the driver's side door popped courteously open for her.

"Nuh uh, Ames," Sides stopped her before she could tug it off. "Blindfold stays on."

Amy huffed, "Seriously?"

"As a spark attack," the mech teased. "And no pouting."

"I'm not pouting," Amy denied as she climbed gingerly from the car. She took a couple careful steps away, giving the mech room to revert back into his bipedal mode. "I just don't like not being able to see where I'm going."

"I've got you, sweetspark," Sideswipe chuckled as he completed his transformation. "I'm not going to let you march off a cliff. I promise."

Reluctantly, Amy nodded, "I know. I trust you."

"Good. That means I'm doing something right." He moved to kneel behind the woman, nuzzling the top of her head affectionately with his nasal plates before gently angling her in the direction he wanted her to go. "Now, you're going to walk straight ahead," he advised. "The ground is a little uneven in spots so take it slow. I'm going to be right behind you."

Amy reached her right arm up and back over her head until her fingertips grazed the side of the mech's face. She nodded, seemingly satisfied by the gesture, "Okay..."

She started off, both arms now stretched in front of herself to prevent plowing face first into any obstacles and her steps hesitant. She didn't like not being able to see but took comfort in the fact that she could feel Sideswipe's presence at her back. She could hear the ground crunch beneath his wheels as he rolled along with her. She could tell they were close to the ocean. She could smell the salt in the air and hear the rhythmic crash of waves in the distance. He'd brought her to the water...a nice reprieve after having been holed up under the ground all morning. A smile tugged at her lips.

"Careful here," Sides cautioned, "the pavement turns sand. Watch your step."

"Alright..." A couple hesitant steps and, true to the mech's word, Amy felt the hard concrete beneath her boots give way to the shifting of sand. "Am I good?"

"You're perfect," Sideswipe teased. "Now left, nine o'clock, then straight through."

Amy adjusted her direction the specified degrees and continued to pick her way carefully over the terrain.

"Almost there," Sideswipe encouraged. "So, so close, Ames. Getting warmer...warmer. You're burning up..."

 _Thunk_.

Amy was bounced back a couple steps as she ran palms first into something hard and immovable.

Sides laughed, "You made it!"

Amused, Amy snorted and reached up to pull off the blindfold. She blinked rapidly as the darkness she'd been used to was replaced by the bright noon sunshine. As her vision adjusted and swam into focus, she found herself staring at a large, bright yellow leg. She slowly craned her head back to look up. She felt a blush color her cheeks.

Sunstreaker was standing, hands planted on his hips, looking down at her with clear amusement on his faceplates. "Hey, Squishie. Glad you could make it."

"Hey," Amy smiled up at the mech and felt her heart do it's odd, little dance in her chest. Slightly embarrassed, she looked away and tried to figure out exactly where it was they'd ended up. It wasn't too hard work out. The Harbor Control Tower loomed up next to the coastline. Though it was bright and sunny, the lighting mechanism at the top of the tower still turned. Amy couldn't help but remember the evening they'd spent here in one another's company simply talking about anything and everything. Her heart warmed at the thought. "So...what exactly are we doing here?"

"Lunch," Sunstreaker simply stated and moved aside, revealing the real reason for their little midday field trip.

They were indeed in the very same spot where'd they'd previously spent time together. Beyond the outcropping of smooth rocks she'd sat upon with the mechs to watch the sunset, a large tarp had been laid out over the sand. Upon the tarp, Amy could spy a couple cubes of what she now knew to be energon as well as a basket which she assumed contained something fit for human consumption. Flowers had been procured from somewhere, a large multicolored bouquet of what appeared to be snapdragons to the best of her botanical knowledge. Everything was arranged in a cozy way that looked out over the sparking waves that lapped at the shoreline.

Amy was a bit taken aback by the time and effort it must have taken, especially knowing how busy they'd both been this morning. Her feet automatically began moving her in the direction of the intimate-looking picnic. "Oh, wow...you guys did this?"

"Sunny took care of the actual setup," Sides informed as he rolled along with her. "I called in a favor to get us a nice lunch. One of the cooks over at the mess hall owed me one for explaining how to hack iTunes to get unlimited free music."

Amy cast an incredulous look over in the mech's direction, "Sideswipe..."

Sides grinned at her and threw his hands up in defense, "I only told him how to do it, Ames. What he chooses to do with that knowledge is all on him."

Amy sighed and shook her head. "I swear..."

Sunstreaker rumbled in amusement as he strolled along on her other side, "Come on, Squishie. You can lecture Sides later. The food's getting cold and we don't have a lot of time to enjoy it before we all have to report back."

"Right." Amy picked up her pace, following Sunstreaker as he led the rest of the way. Though Sideswipe's methods were questionable, she wasn't going to waste a perfectly pleasant afternoon arguing with him over the immorality of acquiring pirated media when she could be enjoying his and his brother's company instead. Rather, she focused on the lovely arrangement before her as she settled herself down onto the tarp.

"Alright, so," Sideswipe vented happily as he sank down next to her and made himself comfortable, "What do you think, sweetspark? Worth the trip?"

"Totally worth the trip," Amy admitted, turning to him with a smile. "It's certainly not what I expected when you offered to take me to lunch. Thank you both. This is really great."

"You might want to hold your thanks until you see how good the food is," Sunstreaker smirked as he bent and reached for a cube of energon while passing the other to his brother. "Make sure the culinary genius here actually had it cooked this time."

Sideswipe frowned as he broke the seal on his cube and took a swig, "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"I still have that jar of popcorn," Amy laughed as she pulled the basket over to examine its contents, pulling out a sealed Tupperware container. "I haven't had a chance to make it yet. Is this...grilled salmon and veggies?"

"It was a learning experience," the mech insisted. "And yes, it is...fully cooked for your dining pleasure."

Amy couldn't help but chuckle as she took a tentative bite. "Mmm...it is really good. You definitely earned a thank you."

Sideswipe made a pleased noise, "I'm glad you like it."

"I fragging hate sand," Sunny grumbled, still trying his best brush what he could off of his pedes before finally lowering himself down to sit and opening his cube of energon. "Whoever designed your planet should be rounded up and shot."

"I'm sorry," Amy tried her her best not to laugh. "I really am."

"You should be," the mech groused but there was no real bite to his words. "You're lucky I like you. I wouldn't trudge around in this slag for just anyone."

"And that's the honest to Primus truth," Sideswipe chuckled.

Amy felt heat rise to her face and her heart pounded out an odd, little beat. She tried to play off the reaction to Sunstreaker's turn of phrase with a forcibly lighthearted, "Well...I'm truly honored."

One corner of Sunny's mouth rose subtly even as the rest of his face seemed to soften in its expression. In what was probably the closest thing to admitting what was really on his mind, he murmured, "Right back at you, Squishie."

"I'm glad we decided to do this," Sideswipe stretched, struts in his back popping. He made a contented sound. "We needed this."

"This is nice," Amy sighed in agreement. Better than nice, her brain chimed in. Aside from the soothing sound of the ocean, the warm sun on her face, and the fresh, salty breeze, the solid, comforting presence of both twins calmed her anxious nerves. "It's been so hectic lately."

"We've missed you, Ames," Sideswipe admitted. "We thought it would be different. You know, not having to go out in the field? But with the Allspark and the Decepticons..."

"The fragging security rotation and endless supply offloads." Sunstreaker frowned, "Prowl and the giant metal pole shoved up his aft..."

"Hey," Amy dissented, "Be nice. I like Prowl. He's good people."

"I never said he wasn't," Sunny shrugged. "But it doesn't change the fact that he's probably got enough scrap metal shoved up there to build a scale replica of the Ark."

Sides chuckled in amusement and shook his head, "Regardless of the reason, it doesn't really feel like we've gotten to spend any time together since we've got back. We just wanted to see you, Ames. That's all."

Amy nodded in agreement, "I've...I've missed you guys, too. I mean, I get it. I know we have to be vigilant and prepared but...it still sucks. Normally, I like to stay busy. The busier the better. It's weird. I've never really minded not having any time to myself before..." she trailed off.

"Believe me, " Sunny vented, "We know what you mean, Squishie."

"I guess..." Sideswipe wondered out loud, "I guess maybe it's different when you actually have someone to come home to..."

Sunstreaker stiffened, his brother's words sparking an idea. It was a horrible idea, one he probably would have knocked Sideswipe upside the head over had he come up with it. As it was, he wondered at the possibility of punching himself in the face if for no other reason than to try to knock some sense back into his processor. The whole 'Human Scenario' had finally made him snap, apparently. He'd very obviously lost his mind and was probably in need of professional help. Despite logical misgivings, his spark agreed with his to-be-proposed plan of action. Knowing that Sideswipe would back him up or, more likely, take the idea an run with it on his own thereby providing him with plausible deniability gave him the last nudge he needed to voice his thoughts.

"Hey, Squishie," Sunny drew the woman's attention, flashing her a roguish smirk. "I have a proposition for you..."

 **End of Chapter 38**


	39. Chapter 39

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 39**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope this update finds you well. I'm very happy to be bringing you our next chapter. Its a little shorter than what I have been posting but I sincerely hope you enjoy it. To answer a question, I'm basing Screamer off his G-1 bio in which he'd actually been a pretty brilliant scientist and good friends with Skyfire aka Jetfire prior to the war. Mix-and-Match. I just pick and choose what I like from different continuities but I love G-1. It's my favorite, lol. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart for all the faves, follows, and especially for your wonderful reviews: SunnyandSidesFemme17, 'Guest', 'Anonymous', Deimoss, jellybeanz513, Dicome, shelby20125, kvanausdoll, Oddity Empress, Geek By Nature, monkeybaby, SolusPrimeLightblast, TheHeizeEffect, poppycakes (muwhahaha!), o-dragon, KayleeChiara, HalfwayParanoid, .Princess, xIliadx, jgoss, Loki Tyv, aquarius89, the everchanging, Songbird's Spirit, SoundlyManners**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"I can't do that," Amy insisted as she paced around her work space. They'd been engaged in the same discussion since leaving their picnic at the seaside and she still wasn't sure exactly what to make of it or what had brought it on. "I'm sorry, I just...I can't."

"Why not?" Sideswipe prodded as he leaned against the railing that ran the length of the mezzanine. "It might not solve all our problems but it's a good start. I mean, at least we'd actually get to see each other."

Sunstreaker, who'd taken over Jazz's chair in his absence, nodded, "I don't see what the big deal is. Seriously, Squishie, I'm just pointing out the next logical step in the progression of whatever this is that we have going on."

Amy looked at the mech incredulously, "You just asked me to move into your quarters. Living with another person is a pretty big deal. Don't you think that's kind of jumping into things kind of fast?"

"Actually," Sunstreaker smirked, "Under the circumstances, its pretty fragging strange that we still stay apart. If you were Cybertronian the three of us would probably already be spark bound and way beyond all this slag."

Amy blinked in confusion, "What does that even mean?"

Sunny shrugged, "It means this should have already been settled and agreed upon deca-cycles ago but we've been dragging our tailpipes trying to work around your weird human sensibilities."

"What Sunny's trying to say is," Sides quickly clarified, "is that we're trying to do right by you, sweetspark. We're pretty sure humans don't have anything comparable to what we're going through at the moment but where we're from, when things like this happen, you do something about it. Matters of the spark don't get much more serious than this. It's inevitable when you think about it."

"What it is, is begging for trouble," Amy argued. "I get where you're coming from and I'm not trying to make light of the situation but there's no way you guys can think this is a good idea."

"It's not a good idea," Sideswipe countered. "It's a great idea. Think about it, Ames." Sides leaned forward over the railing, obviously already completely sold on his brother's idea. "We'd be kind of like...a real, live family unit. Just the three of us."

"And Jazz," Sunstreaker interjected for the woman's benefit. "Kind of...By virtue of association."

"Right, and Jazz," Sides nodded, agreeing with his brother. "We can even run the idea by him if it'll make you feel better. I'm almost fairly sure that he probably might not say that we're glitched."

"What?" Amy shook her head, disbelieving they were even having this conversation.

"We can make this work, Ames," Sides pressed. "I know we can. It's all any of us has ever really wanted, right? Just a nice, normal family."

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but," Amy protested, "this is not a normal family."

"It could be," Sideswipe insisted. "If you wanted it to be."

"It's not about what I want." Amy shook her head, "We could get into a lot of trouble over something like this. Heck, we could get in trouble now. It's completely against the rules."

"Who's rules?" Sunny raised a brow plate in question.

Amy turned to face the mech, shoulders squared, "The UCMJ-"

"Doesn't have scrap to do with us." Sunstreaker smirked, "I realize you're all hung up on rules. I've already looked up all the Articles involving interpersonal relationships and we don't really fit into any of the offending categories."

Amy huffed, hands on her hips. "Oh, I'm sure they could squeeze us in somewhere. JAG is creative like that."

"How about this," Sides bargained, "Just give us a week. Kind of like a trial period. If for whatever reason you aren't happy with the arrangement we can go back to how things are. No questions asked."

Amy pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Sideswipe..."

"A week, Ames," Sideswipe was near begging. "Please? Just one week and if it's not working out we promise to never bring it up again. Come on, what do you have to lose?"

"Uh," Amy ticked off on her fingers, "my rank, my security clearance, my job, possibly my freedom." Her eyes widened at the thought. "I've never been in the brig..."

"We have," Sideswipe unhelpfully interjected. "Lots of times. It's not that bad."

Amy whimpered.

"That's not going to happen," Sunstreaker sternly promised the woman, shooting a warning look at his brother. "We won't let it happen. Sides and I can be discreet when the occasion calls for it."

Amy looked skeptical, "You two? Discreet?"

Sunny flashed a wicked grin, "More discreet than standing on the curb in front of the barracks at two in the morning yelling for you to come outside and play."

Amy paled.

"I'm just saying," Sunstreaker shrugged.

Sideswipe pouted, "Please, Ames?"

Amy tried a new tactic, "I'd just be underfoot and in the way..."

Sunstreaker snorted in amusement, "On this fragging planet everything is underfoot, Squishie. We're used to it. We're not going to step on you and you're too small to be in anyone's way."

Amy sighed and sank down into her chair, " Why are you two so dead set on this happening?"

Sides grinned, "Because we lo-"

"Because," Sunstreaker quickly interrupted his twin, It's what people in our situation do."

Sideswipe shot his brother a knowing look, "Right. What he said." He turned back to Amy, "So...what do you say? One week. That's, like, no time at all. Come on...you know you want to..."

"Ugh..." Amy pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "You guys are so persistent. This is such a bad, bad idea. Why is it so hard to tell you two no?"

Sides shrugged, "Because we're slagging adorable?"

"Yeah," Amy dropped her hands into her lap and tilted her head back to stare contemplatively at the ceiling. "Maybe that's it."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"I don't know how you do it," Ironhide groused. He fidgeted in boredom. Though Ratchet had finally deemed him well enough to "get dressed", he was still confined to the med bay until the cantankerous old medic saw fit to end his torture.

Jazz had postponed his morning checkup to catch-up on some of the goings on around base. He didn't like being out of the loop which was why he'd been meeting with Prowl earlier. He'd eventually left the mech's office after a long discussion involving the 'domestic situation' that had drawn Lennox's attention. All they could really do, they determined, was to advise the trio to lay low and not draw undo attention to themselves. The couldn't very well split them apart to alleviate possible suspicions. Aside from being terribly cruel to all involved, there were also health and safety concerns to be mindful of. Jazz pushed the whole scenario out of his processor as something to worry about later and focused on the mech currently sharing in his misery of limited duty. He chuckled and glanced over at the Weapon Specialist who was laid out on the berth next to his. "Do what 'Hide?"

"Spend so much time trapped in this fragging prison putting up with Ratchet and all his rules," the larger mech grumbled. "Sitting here not doing anything is enough to fry my circuits."

"Perhaps you shouldn't stand in the line of heavy weapons fire like some sort of defunct target dummy," Ratchet snarked as he breezed back into the room with his arms full of medical supplies. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about fried circuits."

Ironhide made a passive sound, "It wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad?" Ratchet scoffed as he dropped his load on the counter and started sorting through it. "You severed a main energon line and one of those rounds came within less than an inch of hitting your spark chamber. You're damn lucky it didn't. As advanced as modern medicine may be, it still hasn't provided me with the means by which to resurrect the dead. You'd best keep that in mind. You're still having erratic spark fluctuations and until those are resolved, I'm monitoring your rusty aft for your own good. Whether you like it or not."

"Nah," Ironhide rumbled in amusement. "I think you just enjoy the company."

"Oh, yes." Ratchet rolled his optics as he began shoving items into cabinets, "Because it's always been a dream of mine to be trapped in the same room with you day in and day out, professionally obligated to see to your every need, all while listening to a constant stream of endless whining that would put even the worst behaved sparkling to shame."

Ironhide rolled his shoulders, "Yeah, I figured as much."

"Play nice, 'Hide," Jazz joked. "Don't get the doc too riled up. I think I saw an arc welder hidden in there."

Ironhide looked distinctly uncomfortable at that thought and settled back onto the berth. He grumbled, "This is a fragging waste of time. I should be running the humans through combat drills."

"Bee's handlin' it," Jazz assured. "He even roped Mirage into helpin'. They're havin' fun with him."

"Drills aren't supposed to be fun," Hide grumpily insisted. "I've worked hard to instill the fear of Primus into those tiny fleshlings. Now thanks to Ratchet I'll have to start all over."

The CMO released a long suffering sigh, "Why can't you be more like Jazz? Do you hear him complaining?"

"Easy for you to say, Ratch," Ironhide huffed. "Jazz gets to leave and go play with his human when he's done."

"Hey, now," Jazz raised a brow plate as he addressed the other mech, "You watch your mouth, 'Hide. I'll have ya know that the scraplet 'n' I are conductin' serious business down there. Music doesn't listen to itself," the TIC grinned.

Ironhide harrumphed.

"Speaking of the femme," Ratchet began, ignoring his problem patient as he made his way over to where Jazz lay with what looked like a car computer diagnostic scanner in hand. "How is she doing? Physically, she seems to have bounced back from her little episode splendidly but I do worry about the psychological strain this all must be having. I don't spend nearly as much time around her as you do to notice any significant change in her demeanor. She's well, I hope?"

"Oh, yeah," Jazz agreed as he lay back and retracted the panels that hid his spark. He was familiar enough with the drill by now that the medic didn't even have to say a word. "She's doin' great. Finally startin' to settle in and settle down."

"Good to hear," the CMO nodded as he began his diagnostics. "And the twins? I've amazingly not had the pleasure of their company lately so I haven't been able to ask."

"Ya know," Jazz mused, "I thought I was gonna have to stay right on top of 'em. You know how they can be. Kinda..."

"Reckless," Ratchet provided. "Irresponsible? Erratic? Promiscuous? Inconsiderate of others?"

"I was gonna say impulsive," Jazz laughed, "but yeah, those work too. They've been really mature about the whole thing, though. They're really tryin' hard. I wasn't sure they had it in 'em to start but I've been pleasantly surprised so far. I'm pretty proud of 'em."

"Well, it's not that they don't have good sense," Ratchet surmised. "They certainly have the processing power. It's just getting them to actually use it."

Jazz chuckled, "I think Amy's doin' a pretty good job of keepin' 'em honest."

"Perhaps we can talk her into putting on some sort of a how-to presentation for the rest of us," Ratchet smiled softly in amusement. "Not even Optimus has been able to rein in those two the way she's managed. She can teach us her mysterious human ways."

Ironhide groaned in disgust. "How much longer are you planning on letting this slag go on?"

"It ain't slag, 'Hide," Jazz frowned at the mech. "I'm tellin' ya, it's the real deal."

"Don't get me wrong, Jazz. I know you're close to the femme and all but," Ironhide squirmed, "I don't like it. It's not natural."

"Natural or not," Ratchet as-a-matter-of-factly pointed out, "I can confirm that they have indeed somehow managed to imprint upon one another. I may not understand the hows or the whys of it but I cannot deny the significance of it and neither should you. More to the point," the CMO continued, "What the twins and Miss Doe get up to privately isn't any concern of yours. You don't have to like it."

Ironhide shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't think a flesh fetish is weird."

"It's not a fetish, 'Hide," Jazz propped himself up on his elbows. "Sunny doesn't even 'like' humans ta be perfectly honest. Amy's just...a special case. They're young. They truly care about somebody for possibly the first time in their lives. They're workin' it out. Leave 'em alone."

"Yeah," Ironhide grumpily relented. "Whatever."

Jazz shook his head and resumed his previous position.

"At any rate," Ratchet offered, "l'm pleased things are going well for them. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy. Especially in times like these." He shot a side glance over toward Ironhide, "No matter how strange it may seem to those on the outside looking in."

"You can say that again, doc," Jazz quietly agreed.

Ironhide simply grunted and rolled his optics.

The room lapsed into silence for a moment, a peculiar stillness settling over the occupants of the room as each seemed occupied with their own thoughts. It didn't last long, however. A quiet rapping at the med bay doors broke the quiet and drew everyone's attention.

"What now?" Ratchet vented and called out, "it's open!"

The doors slid open far enough to allow Sideswipe to slip between them before the mech quickly closed them once again.

"Speaking of Unicron," Ironhide muttered as he flopped back onto the berth, closed his optics, and sighed.

Ratchet, looking wholly uninterested as the mech skated towards them asked, "What can I do for you Sideswipe?"

Sides grinned at the medic, "Download yourself a sense of humor?"

The CMO scowled at the mech.

"Relax, Hatchet," Sideswipe chuckled. "Don't get your wires all tangled. I didn't come in here to harass you. Well...not entirely. I need to talk to Jazz. It's about Ames."

The mech's words immediately drew Jazz's full attention. He again rose up onto his elbows, a look of concern plastered across his face, "Is something wrong? Is she alright?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Sides waived off the TIC's worries. "She's fine. It's not anything bad. At least, Sunny and I don't think so. It's more of a courtesy thing, I guess. We're trying to do things the right way, you know?"

"Okay..." Jazz slowly answered. "Ya got my attention. I kinda need to talk to you two, too. I had a strange run-in with Lennox this morning that I think ya need to be aware of. Where's Sunny?"

"He's, uh, taking care of some housekeeping stuff." Sides asked, "You want me to comm him?Ames and I had sort of a weird talk with Lennox, too."

"Nah," Jazz shook his head. "Just make sure you pass the message along. Can ya do that?"

"Sure, Jazz," Sides nodded. "Will do."

"Good," Jazz adjusted himself on the berth, getting comfortable. "You first. What's goin' on with the scraplet?"

"Well," Sideswipe drew air down deep into his intakes. "Things have been going really well between the three of us. Really, really well. We all had lunch together today and Sunny came up with the fantastic suggestion of having Ames stay with us in our quarters."

"Primus," Ironhide groaned and rolled over onto his side to face away, as if turning his back on the conversation would somehow render the subject matter null and void.

Ratchet sputtered, "Sunstreaker suggested it?"

"Yeah," Sides confirmed with a nod.

Disbelieving, the CMO asked again, "Our Sunstreaker?"

"Yep," Sides again nodded. "Why?"

Ratchet merely shook his head and moved to lean against the counter. The perplexed look on his face suggested that, at least from his point of view, the world no longer made any sense.

Jazz looked more contemplative. "What brought this on?"

Sideswipe shrugged, "We just thought it was time. We like Ames. A lot. More than like but," the mech chuckled, "you know how Sunny is. We want to spend more time with her. We thought this would be a good way to do that."

Jazz vented, "That might be a problem."

Sideswipe opened his mouth to argue but Jazz didn't give him a chance.

"Ya know the weirdness with Lennox this mornin'," the TIC asked.

Sides nodded, "Yeah..."

Jazz frowned, looking unsettled, "Somehow he got the impression that the scraplet and I were together...romantically."

Ironhide rolled back over at that revelation, reengaging with the conversation. The look on his face a mixture of confusion and distaste, "The frag?"

"Oh, for Primus' sake," Ratchet blurted in disbelief. "Why on Cybertron would he think that?"

Jazz shrugged, "No clue, doc. Maybe 'cause we spend so much time together?"

"But," Sideswipe looked perplexed, "that's just wrong. You're her guardian..."

"I know," Jazz agreed. "We cleared up the confusion but the point is, as upset as Will was thinkin' me an' Amy were engagin' in some hanky panky on the sly, I don't think he'd take it too well findin' out you an' Sunny have serious intentions, if ya catch my drift."

Sideswipe narrowed his optics, "So...what? You're saying she can't stay with us? That we have to distance ourselves?"

"That's not what I'm sayin' at all, Sides," Jazz assured. "I believe ya have good intentions but keep in mind that human culture is different from our's. Besides the whole interspecies aspect, ya need to understand that they aren't too keen on certain types of relations. Human twins don't share the same dynamics."

"We know," Sideswipe nodded. "I did some studying up on human relationships. We know all about the do's and do not's. We're not glitched, Jazz."

"Good," Jazz took on a serious aura, "Then you're smart enough not to go around drawing unwanted attention to yourselves. Things could get ugly, Sides. Real ugly. I don't want that. For any of ya."

"We know not everyone would be happy about this. Ames is smart. She doesn't want anyone to get in trouble. That's what we were talking about earlier and why she's hesitant." Sides vented, "Why does everything have to always be so fragging hard? We've done every single thing that's been asked of us since this fragging war started and have never asked for scrap in return. Is it really too much to ask that we have just this one thing for ourselves? Just this one little thing?"

"No," Jazz admitted, "It isn't."

"So," Sideswipe looked at the mech hopefully, "You're okay with it?"

"I'm not endorsing this in any way, shape, or form," Ratchet interjected. "It's certainly not the brightest idea these two slaggers have ever had but, for what it's worth, Jazz, from a medical standpoint it couldn't hurt. It may even help with her sleeping patterns if she consistently remains with them during night cycles. She did mention in passing that she was having issues with not being able to sleep. With everything else going on at the time, however, that was the least of my concerns so we didn't really address it. Though, she did seem to rest easier with this burnout and his brother hanging around the med bay."

"That's right," Sideswipe readily agreed. "She's stayed over a couple times. Well...more like she fell asleep on us and we hated to disturb her but, she slept peacefully all night both times. We actually had to wake her up so she wouldn't be late to post. It'll be good for her, Jazz. What do you say? We've almost got her talked into it. She just needs that little extra push. If she knows you're okay with it, she'll feel a a lot better about the whole thing."

"I'm not tellin' ya that I disapprove. I know that under different circumstances this would a non-issue. But," Jazz looked at the mech pointedly, "With the situation bein' what it is, I am tellin' ya to be careful. My scraplet get's hurt, so do you two. You dig?"

A grin spread across Sideswipe's face, part excitement and part relief. "Absolutely," he nodded his head emphatically. "You have our word and...thanks, Jazz. I really mean it."

"I know ya do." Jazz waved, "Now go on and get outta here. Ratchet needs to finish all his pokin' and proddin' and you and Sunny have business to attend to."

"Right," Sides' voice carried obvious relief. "Catch you later."

The TIC watched the mech make his way back out of the med bay. As the doors shut behind the silver twin, Jazz vented and collapsed back onto the berth in quiet contemplation as Ratchet resumed his work.

Ironhide grunted, "I cant believe you're just going to stand by and let them shack up together."

"I'm not lettin' 'em do anything, 'Hide," Jazz quietly informed. "The three of 'em are joined at the spark. I don't have any control over that. You try tellin' those two to stay away from her. Lemme know how that works out for ya."

Ratchet chuckled, "I've already beat the dents out of you once this week, Ironhide. I'm not doing it again."

Ironhide grunted and rolled back over.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Starscream was seething. He'd been relegated to no better than a sparkling sitter, attending to the remaining pods that housed the humble beginnings of Megatron's would-be new army. He'd come to detest the soulless husks, suspended in their vats of viscous hydro fluid, in their perpetual state of sleep. He'd briefly considered the repercussions of pulling the plug on them all if for no other reason than to spite his leader for bringing Shockwave back into their midst as his replacement. In the end, however, his still-healing injuries from their run-in with the Autobots reminded him that another brutal beating was the last thing he needed.

So it was, with gritted denta and a spark full of malice, that he continued to provide sustenance to and care for the protoforms he'd reluctantly helped to forge.

"Useless," the Seeker muttered as he went about his daily ritual of carefully adjusting internal incubation temperatures and replacing empty energon infusion sacs with fresh. "All of you fragging useless...a waste of time and resources..."

This duty was far below him. In fact, the entirety of the Decepticon ranks were far below him. Where their roster was filled with little more than brutes and cannon fodder with little to no concept of the importance of tactics and strategy, Starscream had excelled at the Cybertron War Academy. Earning accolades for his superior cunning and intellect. It was, after all, to be expected. He'd been a brilliant and respected scientist and explorer prior to taking an interest in his planet's political unrest. In his humble opinion, the smartest thing Megatron had ever done was appoint him Air Commander since he was, naturally, the most skilled pilot within the Decepticon Forces.

If Megatron were truly intelligent, however, he'd step aside and allow Starscream to perform his duties without restraint or the interruption of half-thought-out, dim-sparked schemes that did nothing but cause delays and setbacks in their quest to destroy the Autobots and overtake the pitiful inhabitants of Earth. If he'd said it once, he'd said it a million times. Megatron had lost his edge. The Decepticon Warlord spent his days unhealthily obsessing over the continued existence of Optimus Prime. Instead of planning ways to end the war and setup their new empire on the human planet, Megatron plotted petty ways in which he could, as the humans say, rub salt into his opposition's wounds.

It was frustrating and infuriating and Starscream felt as though he were the only one not blinded to their leader's shortcomings. It seemed mechs had been bowing to the altar of Megatron for so long that they could no longer see a more viable alternative right before their optics. No, they were complicit with their leader's maniacal ramblings. They were too dense to realize they were chasing dead end schemes. They were all too happy to embrace the presence of Shockwave in their midst under the guise of eradicating their enemies and establishing rule. Starscream, however, refused to be fooled.

Deep into the midst of his own self-pity, the sound of heavy footsteps drawing near brought the Air Commander up short. His spinal strut stiffened. His wings tensed almost painfully against his back. The foot steps grew closer, echoing through the mostly empty space with an eerie, ominous sound. They came to an abrupt stop directly behind where he stood. He could feel the heat of another body radiating against the plating on his back, feel the weight of a heavy gaze drilling into the back of his helm. He squared his shoulders, refusing to be intimidated, and turned around slowly.

"Shockwave," Starscream sneered. "Can't you see I'm busy? What do you want?"

The intimidating mech continued to stare down the Air Commander. His lone optic, unblinking, glowed a dull blood red in the dim light of the warehouse. Shockwave's face plates remained passive, showing no hint of either emotion or intent. He stayed perfectly still, deathly so. The only sound emanating from him was a nearly inaudible hum that resonated from somewhere deep inside his chassis. Briefly, Starscream wondered where the Driller had slunk off to. He half expected the vile creature to come bursting through the concrete beneath his feet. He certainly wouldn't put it past the mech to perform such a dastardly trick.

In a move to put distance between them, Starscream casually reached for a data pad and stepped back toward Megatron's precious pods. The mech may have been psychotic but he had doubts he'd risk damaging potential assets. To cover his unease, he snapped at the mech, "I asked you what you wanted."

Shockwave remained silent. The only indication he'd even heard the Seeker speak was a near imperceptible tilt of his head.

Starscream fumed internally at the audacity of the mech. Had he come here simply to mock him? Had he forgotten who he was addressing? Megatron may have passed the responsibility of retrieving his sacred shard to Shockwave but there was no doubt that Starscream remained firmly entrenched in his position of Second in Command. He'd allow himself to be damned straight to the Pit before he let Shockwave forget it.

The Air Commander drew himself up to his full height. He puffed out his chest plates and held his wings up proudly. "Don't just stand there like a slagging drone! Have you forgotten who I am? I'm your superior! I don't have time for your games! If you have nothing of importance to say then leave!"

Thoroughly fed up with the other mech's mere presence, Starscream made to pivot on his heel. He had every intention of turning his back on the mech in hopes that if he ignored him long enough he'd simply go away. It wasn't to be. No sooner had he made a move to turn away, he found his forearm shackled in the other mech's vice-like grip. Thick fingers biting into his plating, pressing into the delicate sensors beneath creating a sensation just short of pain. The fingers flexed, perhaps in warning, sending an uncomfortable jolt straight up his arm and into his neck causing him to grit his denta together.

"What do you think you're doing?! You dare put your hands on me?!" Starscream demanded, "Release me this second!"

"I require subterranean surveying equipment." Shockwave's affect remained flat and his voice devoid of inflection as his lone optic continued to bore back in the Air Commander's.

Starscream wrenched his arm out of the mech's grip and spat back, "Why should I care about what you require?"

"The human military is monitoring air traffic following your unsuccessful attempt at retrieving the Allspark," Shockwave's head tilted slightly in the other direction. "A systematic, underground grid search of military and government installations is the most expedient method with which to locate the shard's energy signature for subsequent retrieval."

Starscream sneered, "If you want to go slink through the mud and dirt like some kind of vermin, be my guest. Take Barricade with you. That useless pile of scrap seems to enjoy filth. Now leave," he demanded.

"I require subterranean surveying equipment," Shockwave repeated in the same, flat monotone. This time adding, "You will provide me with the equipment needed to carry out my mission per Megatron's orders."

Starscream's anger finally bubbled over. Not only had Megatron seen fit to pass his assignment off to Shockwave, he now expected him to cater to the mech's needs as if he were some sort of subservient drone. His fingers tightened on the data pad he still held, the material bending beneath his grip until a splintery crack sounded as the screen gave way beneath the pressure. He hurled the now useless pad across the room. It crashed into the farthest pod, the one housing the remaining femme, and shattered completely into a shower of sparks and glass and twisted metal.

"Megatron?!" As Starscream's fury rose, so did his voice raise in pitch until it became no more than a metallic screech. "Megatron's orders?! Who does he think I am?! I'm not here to serve you!"

"No," a dark voice rumbled as the Decepticon Leader himself stepped from the shadows. "You're here to serve me. Consider yourself fortunate that I still afford you that luxury."

"M-Megatron..." Starscream stuttered, pressing himself closer to the pods. "I didn't realize you were here..."

"Obviously," the mech stepped to the closest pod, studying the protoform within as he rapped his knuckles against it. "How are my soldiers doing?"

A confused look settled over the Seeker's faceplates. He'd expected no less than a lashing for his outburst but Megatron seemed oddly mellow this evening. He looked to Shockwave and finally caught the slightest of something resembling emotion glinting in his optic...sadistic amusement. He was enjoying this...whatever it was.

Starscream swallowed the lubricant that had begun to pool in his mouth out of nervousness. "They're...they're well, Sire. Stable."

"Excellent," a serrated smile split Megatron's face a second before he suddenly rounded on his Second in Command. In a fraction of a second, his fingers were wrapped tightly around the Air Commander's throat, squeezing tightly, effectively cutting off the flow of energon.

Starscream sputtered, gagged, and desperately clawed at the hand around his neck. He couldn't even draw enough air into his intakes to cry out. His vision began to swim and blur and his knees buckled. Just as he thought he'd lose consciousness, he was released and went crashing to the floor. As soon as he had enough sense to, he scrambled backwards on his hands and knees. Once he'd gathered the nerve, he chanced a look up to see Megatron staring down at him, loathing plainly etched upon his face plates, and Shockwave flanking him to the right.

The Seeker wheezed, "S-sire?"

"We need the shard to ensure the survival of the remaining protoforms." Megatron spoke coolly, "You will ensure that Shockwave has whatever he needs to complete his mission. Do I make myself understood?"

Anger threatened to overtake Starscream once again but he quickly tamped it down. Instead, he nodded in submission, "Yes. Of course, my Lord."

Megatron studied his Second for another long moment before finally looking satisfied and turning on his heel to disappear back into the shadows he'd emerged from. Starscream was left crumpled on the floor. Shockwave remained, his gaze piercing the suffering mech with its intensity. His optic still unblinking.

 **End of Chapter 39**


	40. Chapter 40

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 40**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Holy wow! I can't believe this is the 40th chapter. I hope you guys don't mind the length. There's so much that I want to do with this story and I'm trying to take my time so I can get it all in. I have to take care of some "housekeeping items" so we can move along...so, this chapter is one of those. It goes without saying that I'm thankful for all of you who've stuck this out with me so far...I love you guys! I know Amy and the twins love you, too. Thanks to my reviewers on the last chapter: Deimoss, monkeybaby, SunnyandSidesFemme17, HalfwayParanoid, "Guest", "Anonymous", jellybeanz513, shizzlethis1, and SoundlyManners.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **Now...more fluff and other stuff!**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"This is such a bad idea," Amy told herself for what felt like the millionth time as she sat on the end of her bed staring at the packed bag that rested at her feet.

It had taken three days of virtually non-stop begging and pleading, mostly on Sideswipe's end of things, but the twins had finally managed to wear her down enough to get her to agree to their proposal. They'd managed to strike a compromise of sorts. She'd agreed to Sideswipe's proposed week long trial with certain stipulations. She wouldn't give up her room in the barracks despite Sunstreaker's insistence that she wouldn't need it any more. She was only bringing with her what she'd need for a week and nothing more regardless of Sideswipe's belief that it would be better to bring all her things with her because she wouldn't want to go back. They were obviously going into the situation full of optimism and were of the mindset that, despite the temporary nature of their agreement, that this would be a permanent arrangement.

She wished she could feel so certain about things but, given her history, she was handling it the best way she knew how. She tried to keep her expectations realistic. Worst-case scenario was that she'd spend a week with them, it would suck, she'd go back to her room, and things would continue on the way they had been. If it didn't suck, well, she tried not to think beyond the next week. The very worst thing was to have high hopes only to have them dashed when something went wrong. She was trying hard to avoid the pitfalls of negativity but this was one situation where she felt it best to err on the side of caution.

Other than the aforementioned conditions of her stay, she'd also made it clear that she didn't feel comfortable staying in their room alone on the nights they both had overnight duties to attend to. It felt like an invasion of privacy in her mind and she'd much rather sleep in the barracks than alone in their quarters with neither of them there. They'd put up the most fight over that particular point with Sunstreaker informing her that it was the "most fragging ridiculous" thing he'd ever heard and Sideswipe insisting that it was as much her space as it was theirs' and that she had just as much of a right to be there as they did. They wanted her to feel at home and at ease in their new living arrangements and were trying very hard to put her misgivings to rest.

She appreciated the sentiment but just couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow invading their space. Again, she supposed it probably had to do with how much she'd been shuffled around as a child. It was hard to get comfortable someplace and think of it as your own when the very real possibility of having it taken from you loomed over your every waking moment. Despite her best efforts at being positive that was something that she hadn't yet managed to reconcile. They hadn't been thrilled with the idea of the occasional night spent at the barracks but they'd eventually relented when it became clear she wasn't going to budge on the subject.

The details had finally been hashed out but she found that she still had reservations. Not knowing where else to turn in such matters, she'd gone to Jazz for advice. It was strange at first. Not uncomfortable but just...strange. She wasn't used to having someone she could go to just to talk about what was on her mind. She supposed she was fortunate that Jazz was so approachable and easy to talk to. She didn't think she would have had the nerve otherwise. She'd come to rely on the mech's presence to an extent she hadn't even realized until just then. She'd expected him to have words of wisdom that would put everything into perspective, perhaps even strengthen her own fears regarding how terribly it could all go. He'd done nothing of the sort, however.

He'd certainly cautioned her. Advised her on how the situation could be viewed by those unfamiliar with Cybertronian culture and customs...namely, her fellow humans. Keeping a low profile was best. These were things she'd already been worrying about and not just for her own sake. She still found herself worrying over the impact her presence had on the twins. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to live with herself if they came under fire because of her. The last thing she wanted was to cause them any undue hardship. In the end, however, Jazz had simply encouraged her to to go with her spark/heart.

"This isn't somethin' I can decide for ya, scraplet." Jazz had smiled as he'd ruffled her hair affectionately. "Ya need to do what feels right for you. I will say this, though," he'd looked at her sincerely. "Those two think the absolute world of ya and I can't think of anywhere safer that I'd rather ya be than with the two of 'em."

It hadn't been the decisive yes or no she'd been looking for but it had still done wonders for her confidence and perspective. She wasn't going to lie. Despite her misgivings the prospect of staying with them did hold an inherent appeal. She was hesitant to put a label on what she felt for the twins but she knew that she'd much rather be with them than be without. Truth be told, her doubts mostly swirled around outside factors and had little to nothing to do with the twins themselves. She'd stopped doubting their sincerity and authenticity. She'd learned that when it came to them, you pretty much got what you see. They certainly weren't shy about sharing what was on their minds and, so far as she knew, they'd been nothing but upfront and honest with her and she'd eventually been persuaded to at least give them a chance in this, as well.

Her watch beeped letting her know that it was time. With one final look around the room to ensure she'd gathered all her essentials, she slowly stood and retrieved her bag from the floor. She swung the strap over her shoulder with one hand while simultaneously checking to ensure that she had her key card and military ID with the other. Reassured that she did, in fact, have everything she needed, she briskly left the room before she could change her mind and locked the door behind her before heading straight for the elevator.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

It was a typical Friday night on Diego Garcia. Most non-duty personnel were either heading back to the barracks to relax or over to the chow hall to catch dinner. Those feeling more adventurous and energetic were taking advantage of the lovely weather to get in a little exercise or see what MWR had to offer in terms of entertainment. Regardless of their planned activities, all were looking forward to the weekend as a break from their duties and a chance to relax and unwind from yet another hectic week. Sideswipe was looking forward to the weekend more than most and had been waiting, albeit none too patiently, for the work day to end.

Thankfully, the addition of the Allspark shard to their list of responsibilities had created an 'All Hands on Deck' type of scenario in order to provide for the watch rotation. Bumblebee had been forced to extend his stay on base much to the displeasure of the human he'd been tasked with protecting. The kid had apparently had a conniption fit of epic proportions upon learning that his 'car' was now stationed on the other side of the planet until further notice. Apparently, in his mind, the ability to drive around and look cool was more important than planetary security. Regardless, the scout's presence meant an extra body on the roster which had worked out perfectly for Sides and his brother as they were both duty free all weekend. It was the perfect opportunity for them to set the next phase of their domestic plan in motion.

He felt almost giddy, truth be told. This was a huge step for he and Sunny and it was important to them both to get everything just right. They'd never been this deep or this invested in a relationship before. Funny that it should be with someone outside of their own species but he'd long since stopped caring about that little glitch in the program. It didn't really matter, at least not to them. It had always been just the two of them after their creators had passed. They'd never lived with anyone else. The longest they'd ever entertained anyone in their humble abode back on Cybertron had only been a night or two. Even then they hadn't been too worried about whether or not their company had found the place to their liking. They'd been too heavily engaged in other activities to care. This time was different.

"I told you we should have asked for better accommodations," Sideswipe had lamented to his brother as the two had stood just inside the doorway to their quarters, surveying the space with critical optics. "This place is so small..."

"She's small," Sunstreaker corrected. "We just need to rearrange some of this slag. It'll be fine. Here," he pressed an old shipping crate into his brother's hands. "Hold this."

Sides clutched the container to his chest and obediently followed his brother around the room as he began chucking unnecessary items into it and cleaning the small amount of clutter they'd accumulated since returning to base. He couldn't help but ask, "Do you think she'll stay? After the week is up, I mean?"

Sunny mumbled as he finished clearing space on their shelving unit, "Why wouldn't she?"

Sideswipe shrugged, "What if she doesn't?"

Sunstreaker stood up straight and glared at his brother for a moment before shaking his head and stalking to the other side of the room. "Help me move these berths."

It had taken some time and some imagination but they'd managed to arrange the space they'd been allotted into something they felt Amy would be comfortable with. With a bit of scrounging around and smooth talking they'd even managed to procure a couple pieces of human furniture. It wasn't much and they wished they could have done more. Given their situation, however, there was only so much they could do as the Autobots were mostly at the mercy of their host government. They hoped Amy could at least appreciate the effort and know how important this was to them.

So, it was with much nervous anticipation that Sideswipe had finally set off to the barracks to retrieve their femme. Though he would have liked nothing more than to skate right up to the front doors, in an attempt to be discreet he casually parked himself in the lot across from the building to wait. Given the secretive nature of what they were doing, he figured she'd appreciate the gesture. He was a bit early but his Ames was nothing if not punctual. He knew that she wouldn't keep him waiting long.

True to her nature, she'd come bounding out of the doors at exactly six thirty on the dot. Sideswipe felt his spark flare within its casing both in excitement and adoration when her eyes fell upon his alt form and a smile of greeting came to her lips. She crossed the street quickly and he took note that she had at some point changed from the uniform she'd been wearing earlier in the day and into civilian clothing. Her hair hung in loose, blond waves around her shoulders and had he been in his bipedal mode he would have loved to have run his fingers through the soft-looking strands. He settled for politely opening the driver's side door for her as she approached.

"Sweetspark," he greeted affectionately as she tentatively slid in behind the steering wheel. "You look amazing."

"Uh," Amy blushed as she carefully sat her bag down in the passenger seat. She glanced down at the pair of jeans and long sleeved gray t-shirt she'd thrown on. "Thanks, I, uh, I had to take a shower. I was grimy. I was busy blowing the dust out of all the computers this afternoon." She managed a nervous smile, "Really loving the air in a can, by the way. It's great stuff."

"Only the best for my favorite femme," Sideswipe chuckled. "If small canisters of pressurized gas make you happy, then I'm glad to have been of service."

Amy's smile widened to one of amusement and she relaxed back into the seat as the mech backed out of his parking space and guided them smoothly back out onto the street.

"So," he began conversationally, "I can't even begin to tell you how happy Sunny and I are that you agreed to try this. We're really looking forward to it. Seriously. What about you?"

"I still have my worries," she quietly admitted, "but, yeah. I'm...I'm looking forward to it, too."

"It's going to be great," the mech assured as they crossed over to the other side of base and headed toward the hangar that doubled as the Autobots' housing. "You'll see. Everything's going to work out fine."

They continued on in a comfortable, companionable silence. Sideswipe was focused on the road while Amy was content to sit back and watch the scenery roll by. It was about another five minutes before they rolled smoothly to a stop outside of the hangar. Sideswipe popped the driver's door open for Amy to exit. Once she was clear, he immediately began his transformation sequence and was soon standing on his own two wheels again.

Amy's eyes widened, "My bag..."

"I've got it," Sides grinned down on the woman and patted his hip. "Come on. Sunny's waiting on us."

Amy took a deep breath and sighed it out before nodding and following the mech into the building. It was just as she remembered it from the handful of times she'd been there but it felt different this time. More...official, she supposed. As she trailed Sideswipe along the corridor toward his and Sunstreaker's room, they ran into Mirage who was heading in the opposite direction. The mech seemed a bit surprised to see her as he stepped aside to let them pass, his optics widening slightly before narrowing once more. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.

"Mirage," Sideswipe greeted with a tilt of his head.

"Sideswipe," the mech replied in a short, clipped tone before casting his gaze to Amy. "Bella."

"Hello..." the word left Amy's lips in little more than a hoarse whisper.

Mirage frowned, "Where are you off to this stasera?"

"Not that it's really any of your business," Sides smirked, "But we're going home."

Mirage's optics widened once more as he looked at Sideswipe. "Andare a casa? Con lei?"

"Yup," Sides confirmed with a raised brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No," Mirage denied. "No problema." He looked back to Amy, a disapproving frown on his face plates. "Enjoy your evening, signorina."

"Th-thanks," Amy stuttered. "You, too."

"C'mon, Ames," Sideswipe gave the mech a pointed look and motioned for her to follow. "Places to go, people to see."

Amy nodded and they resumed their trek down the corridor. She couldn't help but cast a curious glance back over her shoulder. She was just in time to witness Mirage pull an expression of bafflement and shake his head in disapproval before turning and going his own way. Amy found herself frowning in response.

"What was that about," she couldn't help but ask, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Who knows," Sideswipe shrugged. "Mirage is over torqued. He thinks he's above it all. He's used to having everything go his way and he can't understand when it doesn't. You can't pay attention to anything he says half the time."

"Oh," Amy's frown deepened, her thoughts swirling through all the conversations she'd already had with the Infiltrator. "Okay...if-if you say so..."

She tried her best to push the incident out of her mind. This was supposed to be exciting, a new adventure. It wasn't supposed to be a trip back through her insecurities. To occupy her wayward brain, she tried mentally map out their position in regards to both Jazz's quarters and the restroom...two places she felt were essential to know the locations of if she planned on being in the building for any significant amount of time. It must have worked because it seemed that it wasn't but a moment later that she found herself standing before the twins' door waiting for Sideswipe to key in the pass code.

"Home sweet home," Sides announced with a flourish as he pushed the door open and ushered her inside. "Ladies first."

"Thanks," she flashed him a small smile of appreciation and stepped inside.

"It's about fragging time," Sunstreaker looked up from where he'd been rolling up what appeared to be a large, canvas boat sail. He quickly stashed it at the top of the shelving unit and turned to face the pair. "What took you two so long?"

Sideswipe shrugged, "We took the scenic route...and ran into Mirage."

"Fragging trinket," Sunny rolled his optics before settling them on femme. "Squishie."

"Hi," Amy greeted, feeling heat rise to her face.

"Well," Sides excitedly encouraged the woman to look around, "What do you think, sweetspark? We cleaned the place up a little. Nice, right?"

Amy pulled her gaze away from Sunstreaker and allowed her eyes to survey the room. It seemed more spacious than it had the last time she'd been here. With good reason, she discovered. The entire room appeared to have been completely rearranged. Though it hadn't been messy before, everything seemed to have been condensed in a manner to free up as much space as possible. The makeshift table they'd had was no where to be found, the items it had previously harbored having been relocated to the shelving unit which had also been thoroughly reduced in the number of items it held leaving the two bottom shelves completely bare. Where the table had been sat a couch and a small end table with a lamp on it. She raised a brow at that but continued her inspection. Aside from the addition of human furniture, the most obvious change was that the twins berths had been shoved together and up against the very back wall creating the illusion that there was much more space than there actually was in the room.

"If there's anything you don't like," Sunstreaker interjected, "Let us know and we'll change it. If there's something you need, let us know and we'll get it."

A smile tugged at her lips, "This is just fine," she assured. "But you guys didn't have to go through all the trouble. It's only a week..."

"Oh, no," Sideswipe grinned and shook his head. "This is a 'No Negativity Zone'. It isn't _just_ a week. It's the beginning of something beautiful. You'll see."

Amy felt the ever present staticky heat in her chest expand and her face flush.

Sunstreaker asked, "Where are your things?"

"Oh, uh..." Amy looked to Sideswipe.

"Right here." Sideswipe produced the small duffel bag seemingly out of thin air. He knelt and handed it to the woman.

"Thank you," she murmured as she accepted it from him.

Sunny looked perturbed. "That's it?"

"Yeah," Amy gave him a sheepish look. "I guess I've learned to travel light."

Sunstreaker nodded in understanding. "Well, Bee's intel on human females led us to believe you'd need a lot more space so we cleared these shelves for you so you could store all your things."

"Oh," Amy looked toward the shelves. "That's...thank you." She looked back to Sunny, curiosity plastered on her face. "Bumblebee's gathering intel on human females?"

"More like checking out that Witwicky kid's girlfriend," Sideswipe chuckled as he moved to sit on the end of the berth. He lifted his hands and waggled his fingers. "I hear she's quite mechanically inclined."

Sunstreaker made a sound of disgust and shook his head. "Fragging youngling..."

"Anyway," Sideswipe chuckled, "Friday's are usually movie nights over in the lounge. They get a copy of whatever big budget slag is playing in theaters and let us watch it. Usually it's something we've already downloaded ourselves and watched but," he shrugged, "it's something to do. We figured, though, since this is your first official night and all, that you'd want to get settled in and relax."

"Yeah," Amy agreed with a nod. "That's probably best."

It was a relief, really. Though she had a great deal of respect for all of the bots, considering some of them friends or, as in Jazz and the twins' case, even closer, she wasn't sure she was ready to subject herself or the twins to that kind of scrutiny just yet. True, they were all aware of their relationship but to be honest, Amy still felt a bit out of place. It was going to take some time to adjust to her new niche. She just hoped that in doing so she wasn't holding the two of them back.

"Give me your bag," Sunstreaker interrupted the woman's thoughts. He could practically see the gears in her head turning and it was far too early for second guessing. "I'll help you stow your gear."

Some of the tension seemed to melt from the woman's shoulders, and a relieved expression came to her face as she handed over the small amount of things she'd brought with her. "Thank you...I appreciate that."

Sunny smirked, "Anytime, Squishie."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy sat cross-legged on the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest and looked at Sunstreaker incredulously, "So...you're telling me that the two of you basically carjacked a Decepticon to get here?"

"Helex is a bad neighborhood," Sunstreaker shrugged. He was across the room sitting atop the berth carefully rigging together what looked like some kind of large wooden frame, the purpose of which he'd churlishly declined to share with her when asked. "The fragger should have known better."

"Yeah, Ames," Sideswipe was sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch. He was stretched out on his stomach, his chin propped up on his hands, close enough that Amy could have reached out and bopped him on the nose had she wanted to. "If he didn't want anyone to take it, he shouldn't have left the keys in it. That's his bad."

"Besides," Sunny rumbled, "Do you have any idea how far Cybertron is from Earth? It's not like we could take a slagging bus."

Amy shook her head even as a small smile lifted the corner of her mouth, "You guys are completely crazy."

Sides reached out and nudged her on the leg with a finger, "In a good way, though, right?"

"Yeah," Amy stifled a laugh and nodded her head, "definitely in a good way."

Given that she hadn't brought much with her, it hadn't taken much time for her to more or less square herself away with Sunstreaker's assistance. The awkward nervousness of being in a new place, even though it was someplace familiar to her, had ebbed away much quicker than she would have thought. They'd fallen into their comfortable patterns of conversation easily and Amy found herself worrying less about the coming week and instead immensely enjoying her present company. It felt surprisingly domestic and Amy chided herself for thinking that it would feel weird or forced. This was Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, she reminded herself. She knew them. They were safe. She didn't need to be anyone other than who'd she'd always been.

"And done," Sunstreaker stood to admire the work he'd done on his mysterious wooden frame. "Chromoly steel would be better but it's my understanding wood is standard on this planet. Does this look square to you?"

Sideswipe looked up from where he lay and nodded, "Perfectly. Is it going to fit?"

"I measured," Sunstreaker assured as he moved to prop the strange frame up against the wall.

"Measured what?" Amy asked curiously, hoping to get a better idea of exactly what the mech was doing.

"Just something for a project I'm working on," he answered noncommittally as he moved back across the room, "Humans and their fragging curiosity."

Amy pouted in disappointment.

"If you hadn't noticed," Sideswipe appeased, "Sunny's a bit of a perfectionist. He doesn't like to talk about his projects until they're just right. It'll be worth the wait, though. They always are."

Amy opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted when her watch beeped. She looked to her wrist and frowned, "Wow, it's late."

Sides reached for her arm and gently pulled her arm over to where he could see. "Midnight," he gave her a lopsided grin as he released her and pushed himself up to sit. "I guess time really does fly when you're having fun, huh?"

"Yeah," Amy murmured in a answer. "I guess so."

"We should probably get some recharge," Sunstreaker suggested. "We've finally got a slagging weekend to ourselves and I'd prefer not to spend it all catching up on defrag."

Sideswipe nodded in agreement as he rose to his wheels. "Yeah, you're right." He turned his attention back to Amy. "So, we got you some bedding. We hope it's okay..."

"I'm sure it will be fine..." Amy watched as the mech moved to the shelving unit and began to pull down blankets and pillows. Fresh anxiety began to churn in her gut. She knew she'd stayed overnight with them twice before but it had been more due to accidental circumstances than any real conscious decision on her part. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. This time, however, she was choosing to do so of her own free will and it was completely nerve wracking for some reason. It only became more so when he breezed right by her, ignoring her outstretched arms to accept the items, and proceeded to arrange his bundle of bedclothes in the middle of the berth.

Amy frowned, "Uh...the couch is fine. Really. I don't want to be in the way..."

"What?" Sides turned and shook his head. "You're not going to be in the way." He gestured to the berth. "The great thing about these is that they're modular. If you need more space you can just snap them together. There's plenty of room. We're not going to make you sleep on the couch. What kind of mechs do you think we are?"

"I, uh..." Amy tried a different avenue. "I don't want to get smashed in my sleep? No offense..."

Sunstreaker snorted, "We're not going to smash you, Squishie. You've slept with us before and lived to tell about it."

Amy immediately felt heat creep up into her face at Sunny's chosen wordage. Though, she admitted, he wasn't wrong. She sighed, "Yeah..."

"That settles it then," Sideswipe said with an air of finality as he put the finishing touches on his nighttime preparations. He turned and looked at Amy expectantly. "Well?"

Confused, Amy asked, "What?"

He raised a brow, "Don't humans have special clothes that they sleep in?"

Amy swallowed, "Um, pajamas?"

"Yeah," Sides nodded. "Those. Aren't you going to change?"

"Um..." Amy looked bashfully between the mechs, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, "Oh, for Primus' sake." He turned his gaze to the ceiling and shuttered his optics, slapping a hand over them for good measure. "Sides..."

"Oh, right," Sideswipe grinned cheekily and pivoted on his wheels to face the opposite direction. "I promise, no peeking."

Amy took a moment to study the pair to ensure they weren't looking and then proceeded to change her clothes faster than she ever had before in her entire life. She didn't think she'd ever dressed herself so fast, not even for General Quarters or a Man Overboard drill. She took another brief moment just to look herself over and make sure she was presentable before announcing, "I'm done."

Sunstreaker dropped his hand and looked at her for a moment, studying this strange, new attire, before quickly bending and scooping her up off the floor causing her to squeak in surprise. Just as quickly, he'd deposited her atop the berth. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

As soon as her world stopped spinning, Amy shook her head in the negative and quickly moved to the center of the berth where Sideswipe had created what looked like a small nest for her and quickly snuggled herself down into it trying to be as small and inconspicuous as possible. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Sunstreaker followed suit, climbing into the berth and settling on his back. He vented tiredly and tucked his hands behind his head, gazing up to the ceiling. "Sides...lights."

"Got it," came the mech's reply and an instant later the room was bathed in darkness.

Amy felt herself automatically tense. The realization that this was real and actually happening made her feel almost giddy with nerves. She certainly had never pictured herself in a situation even remotely like this when she'd been transferred. She doubted that she even possessed the imaginative capabilities to even dream something like this up herself. As such, when Sideswipe slid into the berth on her other side, she had to tamp down the urge she felt to cackle like a mad woman.

"This is so awesome," Sideswipe rumbled quietly. He was propped up on his side, looking down at the wide-eyed woman next to him. "Being able to see you like this."

Amy had hoped they'd simply get into bed and...turn off? Power down? Go into standby mode? She wasn't really sure how their sleep/recharge cycles worked. Apparently, it wasn't meant to be. To spite herself, she raised a brow in question at the mech's comment.

"I mean," Sides clarified as he reached out and carefully ran a finger along a lock of hair that had spread itself out over her pillow, "Usually when we see you you're in uniform with your hair bound up all tight." He moved to touch her again, this time tracing the tip of his finger lightly down the side of her face. "You look...more relaxed this way. If I haven't told you lately, you're beautiful, sweetspark."

"Right," Amy scoffed, thankful that the room was dark and the shadows helped camouflage her face which she was sure was fire engine red at this point. "You obviously need to get off this island more."

"What?" Sideswipe chuckled. "You don't believe me?" He looked to his twin, "Sunny, back me up here?"

"Symmetry is naturally very pleasing to the optics." Sunny turned onto his side to look at the woman. He hooked a finger beneath her chin and turned her head to face him. "You're very...symmetrical."

"Thanks," Amy croaked. "I think..."

Sunstreaker propped his head up in his hand and studied the woman for a moment. She lay rigid and unmoving, a far cry from the soft, pliant mass she'd been the previous times she'd accidentally slept over. With a heavy sigh, he asked, "Are you alright, Squishie? You look a little...stiff."

"Yeah..." Amy answered slowly, her eyes focusing on the otherworldly glow of the mech's optics in the darkened room. "Sorry. I guess...uh, I guess I'm kind of nervous. I've never done anything like this before with anyone. Sharing living space, I mean."

"There's no reason to be nervous," Sides soothed. He took the opportunity to scoot closer and nuzzled his face into her hair, enjoying the softness. "It's just us, Ames. It's not like we're strangers. If it makes you feel any better, we've never done anything like this before either."

Amy's brow furrowed, "Really?"

"Really," Sideswipe assured. "We're all figuring it out together."

"Huh..." Amy chewed her bottom lip as she turned that bit of info over in her head. "That's...surprising."

Sunny cocked a brow, "Why's that?"

Amy shrugged, "I don't know. It's just...you guys have been around a lot longer than I have..."

Sunstreaker pressed, "Yeah...so?

"So..." Amy swallowed nervously, "I figured you guys would have to have been in some kind of a relationship at some point, right?"

Sunny snorted, "Nothing serious that you need to be worried about. Relationships have never really been our thing."

Amy blinked and swallowed hard, "They haven't?"

"Nope," Sideswipe confirmed. "Not until recently."

"Oh..." Amy mulled that over for a moment. "But I thought..." she shook her head. "Never mind."

"No," Sunstreaker disagreed. "You thought what?"

Amy denied, "It's not important."

"It is if it's bothering you," Sunny insisted. "Out with it, Squishie."

"You can tell us anything, Ames," Sides encouraged, snuggling closer, placing a hand on her hip and giving the woman a careful squeeze. "No judgment."

"I heard..." Amy started.

"You heard?" Sunstreaker immediately interrupted. Suspicious, his optics narrowed. "You heard from who?"

"Does..." Amy fidgeted, loathe to put anyone's name out there. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," the yellow front liner insisted. "It does." A growl left his vocalizer, "It was Mirage, wasn't it?"

"Sunny..." Sideswipe could feel his brother becoming agitated through their bond. He didn't want Amy's first official night with them to turn into an all out war over whatever the affluent mech may or may not have said to their detriment. "Let's hear her out before you get all worked up..."

"Fine," he grit out through grit denta. "What kind of slag has that rusty tailpipe been spewing this time?"

"N-nothing," Amy stuttered, trying to find a delicate way to phrase what was on her mind without pouring more fuel on to what could easily become a raging fire. "Just that you guys kind of have the reputation of being kind of...indiscriminate when it comes to stuff like this."

"Indiscriminate?" Sideswipe turned the word over as if he were having trouble relating it to their current situation. He shook his head, "No, Ames...sweetspark, it's not like that. I mean, I'm not going to lie to you. We definitely weren't hermits or anything like that but nothing we were ever involved in ever really worked out or was really worth pursuing."

Both curious and concerned, Amy asked, "Why...why not?"

"One of the pitfalls of being a twin," Sideswipe shared. "Everyone's curious but once the novelty wears off..." he shrugged his shoulders. "How's that human saying go? We're not everyone's cup of tea?" He chuckled, "I guess it's more than most people want to take on."

"Oh," Amy breathed the word out softly. "I see..."

"I'm going to break his fragging face," Sunstreaker muttered finally, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the berth. "I'm going to go drag his useless aft out of his berth and I'm going to break his fragging face."

Sideswipe, too, sat up as his brother rose to pace restlessly along the side of the berth. He shot a glance to Amy who'd also sat up and was looking absolutely mortified and more than a little guilty. This was not how he'd pictured his first official family night. "Sunny..."

"No," the mech snapped. "Don't 'Sunny' me. I told you. I told you that fragging trinket was too full of himself to stay out of our business." He demanded of Amy, "What else has he been saying?"

"N-nothing!" Amy felt tears prick at her eyes, "I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start any trouble."

"Oh, no," Sides immediately moved to comfort the woman, wrapping one hand around her middle and pulling her over into his lap, blankets and all. "It's not you, sweetspark, I promise. We've been having this go around with Mirage since, well...for as long as we've known him. Sunny's just a little sensitive..."

"Sensitive?" Sunstreaker stopped moving, looked at his brother, and growled. "That piece of scrap is telling her we just go around fragging anything that moves and Primus only know what else! How do you think that looks to her?" He focused on the woman, "Do you believe that slag?"

"I, uh...no!" Amy denied, "It's just...you asked!"

"Right." Sunny sneered as he began pacing once more, "He's a dead mech."

"Sunny," Sides vented. "It's been a good night. Let's not ruin what's left of it over Mirage of all things. We're here. Ames is here. Everything else can wait till morning."

Amy nodded vigorously in agreement. "Please," she pleaded. "Just...come back to bed. It's-it's not a big deal, really. Please?"

Sunstreaker halted in his movement and turned to look at the small femme. He studied her hard for a long moment, as if he were just seeing her for the first time. Another thirty seconds ticked by before he finally vented heavily and collapsed back down to sit on the side of the berth, his head in his hands. "Frag me," he uttered.

"Sunny..." Sides started but the other mech shook his head, silencing him.

"You don't have a fragging clue what any of this spark slag means beyond the scraps Ratchet's been feeding you." Sunstreaker's comment was obviously aimed at Amy. "You have no idea what this is like..." he trailed off, dropping his hands to clench them into fists on top of his thighs.

Amy turned her head to gaze up Sideswipe who gave her a poignant look in return. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth nervously for a moment before carefully extricating herself from the tangle of blankets and slowly crawling her way back over to Sunstreaker's side of the berth. She sat there on her heels for a pause, uncertain of what to do, before simply reaching out and placing her hand on the mech's forearm causing him to twitch slightly.

She took a deep breath, "I'm trying really hard to understand. I really am."

Sunstreaker kept his gaze straight ahead, not looking at her but did move to cover her hand carefully with his own. "I don't know what kind of scrap that trinket's been filling your head up with but, we're not using you. You're not slagging amusement. This isn't all fun and games for us."

Amy dipped her chin down and nodded her head, "I know."

"Do you?" Sunstreaker turned to face her. Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he lifted her head up. "Look at me."

Amy did as he asked. She gazed up into the blue glow of his optics. In the darkened room they seemed almost piercing, as if he weren't looking at her but rather into her. He studied her for a long moment in which time seemed to slow considerably. Amy felt the first prickling of self-consciousness begin to creep in but refused to look away. She sensed this moment was of the utmost importance and to do so had the potential to undo the hard work that had already been done. Her perseverance paid off and he eventually found whatever it was he'd been looking for.

Sunstreaker vented heavily and with the rush of warm air, some of the tension also left his frame. "Bright spark," he murmured, running the backs of his fingers along the side of her face.

Amy blinked up at him, "Are you okay?"

"I will be," he rumbled.

"Good," Sideswipe tried to inject some levity into the situation. "If you're done being all brooding and angsty, we really should get some recharge. Ames looks like she could use it."

Sunstreaker shot his brother an annoyed look but grumbled his assent. The woman did always seem tired. He urged Amy back over to her little nest, which Sideswipe had helpfully reassembled, as he climbed back into the berth himself. He watched the woman settle herself before lying back and trying to make himself comfortable once again. His processor was still whirring along at a hundred miles an hour but he felt marginally better. On a whim, he reached out and pulled Amy over snug against his left side.

He shrugged when she looked up at him in question. "You're going to end up over here anyway. Just try to keep the drool to a minimum."

His spark flared warmly when she gave him a soft smile and replied, "I'll do my best...no guarantees," and proceeded to burrow down into her blankets next to him.

"This is nice," Sideswipe sleepily commented as he snuggled in behind the woman, his chest plates to her back and his face buried in her hair. "Comfortable?"

"Mmhmm..." Amy nodded in agreement, her eyes already closed as her exhaustion finally caught up with her. "G'night..."

"Good night, sweetspark," was Sides' soft reply. "Night, Sunny."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker sighed, "Night."

The yellow front liner lay there for a long while after Amy's breathing evened out as sleep claimed her and his brother was deep into his recharge cycle. He stared at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander as he tried to gear himself down enough to rest. His mind kept cycling around to the same subject, however. He turned his head to look at the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. She was small and fragile—the complete opposite of everything they were. He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't even wanted this. Now...

Now he wasn't sure if it was possible to go back to the way things were before. Even if it was, he wasn't sure that he'd want to. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he had to acknowledge the possibility that Sides had been right. Maybe they had been lacking something all this time. The Squishie may have been tiny in comparison but she filled the space well...better than he could have imagined at first glance. Everything fit together too well to be a product purely of chance. Organic or no, she was where she belonged.

A smirk pulled at his mouth as he finally closed his optics, content for the time being. "I'm still going to break his fragging face."

 **End of Chapter 40**


	41. Chapter 41

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 41**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

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 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I hope you're all having a wonderful day. I have a new chapter to post so I'm feeling mighty fine. On a side note, does anyone care to commiserate on how tedious it is to find actual, legitimate lines from movies and radio to help poor, little Bumblebee speak? Extra kudos to you if you can identify where he's picking this stuff up! I love me some Bee!**

 **To answer a question from Jess, I'm trying to stay away from holoforms...I don't want to make things too easy on them, ya know? Bot sizes vary depending on which continuity you're looking at. I've gone with the middle ground and decided that the twins are right around 15ft tall, give or take a few inches. Amy is around 5'6", pretty average height, and if you look at all the size charts and graphs floating around out there on the Internet it would put the top of her head somewhere right around their knees. So, while they're significantly larger than her, it's not monstrously so. I'm also operating on the assumption that being a much more technologically advanced species that they'd have some sort of system in place that would allow them to be at least partially aware of their surroundings even when they recharge since being completely out of it would leave them vulnerable. Like Sunny said, they're not going to smash her. So, worry not, my friend! Amy is safe...at least for now... **cue evil laugh** I hope that answered your question :)**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has decided to follow us along on this journey and especially to those who've taken time to leave a review and say hello: SunnyandSidesFemme17, Deimoss, Sweet Sprinks, 'Guest', monkeybaby, The Whispering Sage, jellybeanz513, Jaxrond, o-dragon, 'Anonymous', shizzlethis1, poppycakes, velociraptor4659, Jess, xIliadx, ElleGirl19, SoundlyManners, Iron-rays, Jinx's Remix, Bsmiles123, the everchanging**

 **I love getting feedback from you guys! If I missed anyone, I'm sorry. Fanfic is being glitchy with the reviews again. BTW...I had to chop this in half or else it would have gone on forever :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

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Sunstreaker had always been an early riser, especially when compared to his twin. Whereas Sunny much preferred to get up and get a jump on his day, Sideswipe would have been content to spend all morning lazing around in his berth if the ever present pressures of war fighting would have allowed him to. Instead of rolling right out of the berth as he usually did, however, Sunstreaker took a moment just to lay there and take in the morning as his systems ran through their obligatory checks and balances to prepare for the day. It was a small indulgence, true, but it one he rarely, if ever, allowed himself.

It really wasn't much different than any other morning he and Sides had experienced since they'd arrived on Earth. He lay in the same berth. The same four, galvanized steel walls boxed them in. The same pitted ceiling loomed over them. Everything was the same, yet nothing was. Besides the normal, familiar sounds of an entire military base waking up and coming to life around them, he was acutely aware of the soft sound of breathing right next to his left audio receptor. It was slow and rhythmic...soothing in its own strange, alien way. A very small change from the norm but with a huge impact nonetheless. He turned his head slowly, careful not to disturb the source of the sound.

The woman was curled up on her side facing him, mostly cocooned in her blankets. She was sleeping soundly and in the dim light of the room he could just barely make out the movement of her eyes beneath the thin lids that covered them. He wondered absently if humans dreamed the same way Cybertronians did with their tiny, little meat brains. If so, he wondered what they dreamed about. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He couldn't have cared less what other humans dreamed about. He did, however, wonder what was going on inside of Amy's boney, little head. Whatever it was, he hoped it was something good. Primus knew she deserved it.

As badly as he hated to do it, he knew he needed to get up. There were things he wanted to accomplish while he had the opportunity and though spending time with Sideswipe and the Squishie were definitely top among them, there were other things he needed to attend to first. Pulling air deep into his intakes and releasing it slowly, he rolled up to sitting, being careful not to disturb his berth mates. He took a moment to adjust the sleeping woman's blankets, recovering an arm that had worked its way out from beneath the warm layers and then tucking them in securely around her, before fluidly rising from the berth and leaving the room on silent pedes.

His first stop was the wash racks. The powerful spray of hot water and solvent never failed to rouse him completely and make him feel more centered. It was part of a ritual he'd crafted many, many vorns ago. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told Amy that he and Sides had basically been a couple of street urchins after their creators were killed. They'd been a couple of filthy, low-caste nobodies who'd had to resort to begging for scraps on a street corner just to survive. Unfortunately, in Kaon, the sight of a couple dirty, barely-younglings hustling credits on a grimy corner wasn't an altogether unfamiliar sight. He vividly remembered the looks of both pity and disgust on the faces of passers by. Given the demographics of the city, it was mostly the latter.

He couldn't stand the way everyone looked down on them, as if they were so much better than they were. No matter that they'd wound up in their position through no fault of their own. That they'd lost a loving home with two creators they'd absolutely adored to the callous negligence of the ruling dictatorship. No one cared. No one had given a flying frag. They'd had each other, though. It had been just the two of them against the world and he'd sworn to both himself and his brother they'd come out the victors one way or another.

Once they'd entered into the gladiator arena and had managed to scrape together enough credits between the two of them to rent a slag hole apartment, he'd taken whatever had been left from his share after the essentials had been taken care of and had purchased cleaning supplies and a can of wax. He'd spent over two groons in the wash racks, scrubbing and scouring his plates until they'd ached and he'd assured himself that every last particle of dirt had been removed. He'd buffed and polished until his armor had gleamed. It was a cathartic process, as if by removing physical residue he could also purge the emotional. It still helped to some degree and so what seemed to those on the outside to be an exercise in self-indulgence and vanity, in reality ran much, much deeper.

Sideswipe, on the other hand, had been thrilled just to have an actual berth to recharge in which, honestly, probably explained a lot.

Once he was satisfied, he turned off the spray and reached for a chamois cloth. He dried carefully, making sure to remove every drop of moisture. Walking around covered in water spots was just as bad as walking around covered in dirt in his view. Dried to his liking, he buffed himself until his armor shined bright. He decided to forego the wax this morning. His most recent coat would do another day. First task accomplished, he quickly packed his supplies away into subspace and exited the room.

His second stop was to pick up the morning rations. It was yet another habit borne of hard times. He never skipped rations regardless of whether he needed the energon or not and he always made sure his brother had his share, as well. There had been times in the past when they hadn't been sure where their next cube would come from. Filling their tanks had been a luxury they often couldn't afford. Even after joining up with the Autobots, knowing that Prime put the well-being of his troops even above his own and that they wouldn't starve, it was a practice he couldn't seem to get away from.

He entered the rec space which also housed the prepared energon supply. The room was empty except for the Autobot's CMO. Ratchet was usually the only other mech up and about this early, having his own list of things to do in order to prepare for the day. The doctor was currently leaning up against a support column, sipping at his own cube, and watching the morning news. He tipped his head in greeting as Sunny passed by on his way to prepare his and Sides' energon.

"Ratchet," Sunstreaker greeted in return, scowling back over his shoulder at the television. "How can you watch that scrap?"

Ratchet made an amused sound, "I enjoy keeping up on current events. Besides," he added, "I find the psychology of it all fascinating. A species separated from us by millions of light years and yet the same issues that plagued our society is present in their's, as well."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Different planet, same slag. Got it."

"Mmm..." Ratchet hummed, taking a sip from his cube and turning away from the television to look at the mech fully. "It's my understanding from speaking with Jazz that you and Sideswipe have a houseguest."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker didn't bother looking up from his task. "What's it to you?"

Ratchet looked pointedly at the mech, "Believe it or not, Sunstreaker, I care just as much about her health and well-being as I do any other member of this crew."

Sunstreaker vented, seemingly uninterested in whatever conversation the other mech was trying to have. "She's fine. Getting some much needed recharge."

"Good, good," Ratchet nodded, pleased. "Just make sure that's all she's doing. Just because she's sharing a room doesn't mean you're free to take liberties..."

"Liberties?" That certainly caught Sunny's attention, he whipped around to face Ratchet, "The frag you get off-"

"And now...breaking news..." A news alert flashed across the television screen drawing the attention of both mechs and cutting off whatever Sunstreaker had been about to say. A pretty, dark-skinned woman wore a serious expression as she gazed into the camera. "Authorities in Colorado Springs are reporting the formation a massive sinkhole following what the Colorado Geological Survey described as a minor earthquake in the area. The hole opened near what's known as the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. The underground complex is home to the North American Aerospace Defense Command. No confirmation yet on whether or not there are any casualties. Emergency crews are on the scene waiting for the area to be deemed safe to enter. We'll keep you updated as more information becomes available." The woman shuffled the papers in front of her, "Coming up, what you can do to keep yourself healthy this flu season..."

Sunstreaker grunted, shook his head and turned back to the cubes of energon he'd been preparing, intent on ignoring Ratchet. It was too early for an all out altercation and he had things to do. He muttered, mostly to himself, "Fragging planet trying to kill itself. I don't know why we don't just take the slagging shard and leave."

"Because," the CMO stated as-a-matter-of-factly, his optics glued to the screen as a physician from Harvard Medical School explained how the flu virus worked, "It's highly unlikely the Decepticons would follow suit. This planet has plentiful natural resources. You know as well as I do that they'd have it stripped bare before the stellar cycle was over. It would be a complete wasteland. The humans would be decimated."

Sunny shrugged, "Not our problem."

"What?" Ratchet scoffed, turning his head to look at the mech as a commercial break started, "I was under the impression that you had a newfound appreciation for humanity given recent circumstances."

"Nope," Sunstreaker replied flatly. "Just for the one. The rest of them can go jump in a smelter for all I care. I still stand by my initial assessment that they're a bunch of grease stains."

"Lovely," Ratchet harrumphed. "And does Miss Doe know of your complete and utter disdain for her entire species?"

Sunny nodded as he gathered the cubes in preparation to leave, "She's well aware."

Ratchet snorted, "I'm sure that makes for some wonderfully romantic conversation for those quiet moments alone."

Sunstreaker smirked at the CMO as he breezed by on his way back out, "You'd be surprised."

He made his way quickly back to his and Sides' berth room to find Bumblebee hovering right outside the door. He hadn't forgotten that he now had another mouth to feed. He eyed the scout as he approached, "You get the stuff?"

Bee looked tired at being up so early but nodded at the front liner enthusiastically before producing a small styrofoam container for his inspection.

Sunny eyed it skeptically, "Is it good?"

Again, Bee nodded, a patchwork of voices replying, " _A little...something...everyone...can enjoy._ "

Satisfied, Sunstreaker accepted the small package. "I owe you one."

" _Don't worry..."_ the Scout's speakers crooned. " _Be happy..."_

"Right," Sunny turned away toward the door, effectively dismissing the younger mech when an idea suddenly struck him. He turned back, calling out to the scout who was moseying his way back to his own quarters. "Hey, Bee?"

Bumblebee halted, spinning back around, his head cocked in question.

Sunstreaker asked, "You still handling combat drills while Hide is in the scrapyard?"

" _Oh, yeah..._ " Bee threw a couple punches into the air. " _Parking lot, after school! It's on!_ "

A sly grin lifted the corner of Sunny's mouth, "Is Mirage still helping you out?"

Bee nodded, " _I said hey, what's going on?_ "

Sunny shrugged, "Just curious."

With his processor turning that bit if intel over, Sunstreaker keyed in the door code and reentered his quarters. He quietly shut the door behind himself and took a moment to allow his optics to readjust in the dark. Silently, he crossed the room back toward the berth. He carefully deposited one of the energon cubes and the styrofoam container on the side he'd vacated, far enough from the berth's occupants that they wouldn't be disturbed or the contents spilled. He made a mental note that they'd need to find some kind of small table or stand to replace the larger one they'd discarded.

Turning his attention to the two beings closest to him, both still slumbering and seemingly without a care in the universe, he couldn't help the look of fond amusement that cracked his typically severe expression. Sometime during the course of his absence, Amy had turned over in her sleep, still tightly bound within her swaddle of blankets, and now faced his brother. Sideswipe had gathered the woman securely against his chest plates and held her tightly. He looked every bit like a sparkling clutching their favorite toy as if afraid someone would come along and try to take it away from him. Knowing how hard his brother could be to rouse on occasion, he pitied the woman...almost. They seemed content with one another, however, and so he let it be.

Sunny chuckled to himself as he knelt and felt around beneath his side of the berth. "Good luck with that, Squishie."

His fingers latched onto what they sought and he pulled the small palladium case from the crevice it had been wedged into. He sat back on his haunches, turning it over in his hands, his fingers tracing over the stylized characters that spelled out his name. Before he could second guess what he was doing, he snapped the case open to examine its contents. The brushes, a gift from Sideswipe, were the most expensive thing he'd ever owned and he'd probably never know how the mech had managed to scrape the credits together to buy them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually put them to use but figured it had to be sometime prior to the fall of Tyger Pax...a long, long time ago.

Snapping the case closed once more, he tucked it into subspace and rose from the floor. Making his way to the shelving unit, he grabbed a data pad and quickly typed out a message for his brother. He retrieved the canvas sail from where he'd stashed it the night before. He left the data pad on the berth next to the cube of energon and the styrofoam container. He took one last long look at the berth's occupants to assure himself they were well before turning away, grabbing the frame he'd put together, and once again leaving the room

 **XXXXXXXXX**

"Sideswipe," Amy sighed, half in exasperation and half in amusement. "It's time to get up. Seriously. It's after nine..."

"Five more minutes," came his muffled reply.

A smile twitched at her lips, "You said that twenty minutes ago."

"Ames..." the mech whined, "It's Saturday..."

Amy released a long sigh. She honestly didn't mind the extra sleep. She'd been running on so little for so long that she forgot what a luxury it was to have a duty-free weekend and not have to roll out of bed before dawn. She felt well-rested beyond anything she'd experienced since arriving on the island, even more so than the previous occasions she'd spent the night in the twins' room. She'd slept straight through the night, no waking from dark dreams or disembodied voices. In fact, if she'd dreamed at all she didn't remember it.

She was actually very comfortable despite the fact she was bound up in the blankets like some kind of human burrito. She had managed to free an arm which really did nothing for her since Sideswipe had decided to cuddle her like she was a giant teddy bear. It was kind of cute, really...or it would have been had her bladder not been demanding to be relieved. She used her free hand to poke the mech on what passed for his nose.

"Sideswipe..."

The mech cracked an optic open, "Sweetspark..."

She flashed him a sheepish smile, "I need to use the bathroom."

Sides pulled away slightly, grinning sleepily, "Go ahead. The berth's waterproof. Most fluids wipe right off."

"Eww..." Amy scrunched her nose. "That's really gross..."

"Okay, okay. You win," Sideswipe chuckled, disentangling himself from the woman allowing her to escape her confines. "Humans and their tiny, little waste tanks..."

Amy threw her covers off and turned her attention to the empty side of the berth. She frowned, "Did you know Sunstreaker's gone?"

Sides nodded as he rose from the berth and stretched. "Yep."

"So..." Amy gnawed at her bottom lip. "Should we be worried? Do we need to go find him? He was pretty upset last night..."

"Nah. Sunny's always up and out early. He's always been that way." Sideswipe reached for her to help her to the ground, gesturing to the items his brother had left for them. "See? He even brought us breakfast. He's fine."

"Well, that's a relief," she sighed before teasingly adding. "He's an early riser and you're the lazy twin. Good to know."

"I'm not lazy," the mech mock pouted as he knelt and gently sat her on the ground. "I'm...relaxed."

"Uh huh," Amy laughed. "I can tell."

Sideswipe leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her's for a moment before settling back on his haunches and giving her a wink. "Do what you need to do, sweetspark. When you're finished we'll have some breakfast and decide what to do with the rest of the day."

Sides watched, feeling warm and content, as Amy went about gathering whatever it was that humans needed to start their day. It was the best morning he could remember in a very long time, possibly ever. The thought of waking up every morning next to someone you absolutely adored made his spark stutter happily. He'd hoped, certainly, but to actually have reached this point was more than he imagined being possible when he and Amy had accidentally zapped one another that first night. It was a moment he'd never ever forget no matter how long he lived.

"Ready," she announced as she waited patiently at the door for him to let her out.

He mentally noted they'd need to make human ease of access to their quarters a priority as he rose to assist. They didn't want the woman feeling like a prisoner or that she had to rely on them for her comings and goings and the heavy doors definitely weren't user friendly for someone of her size. He disengaged the lock and opened it for her to pass through.

"Thanks," she smiled up at him. "I'll be right back," she promised.

"I'll be here," he assured in return. He stepped out into the corridor with her, watching as she made her way to the end and turned the corner, vanishing from sight. His content smile crumbled into an anxious frown. He muttered worriedly to himself, "Don't frag this up, you slagger."

Sides retreated quickly back into the room, leaving the door ajar so she could get back in. He headed straight for the berth, quickly folding the blankets Amy had used and replacing the bedding on the shelves where she could easily reach it should she want them again. His optics did a quick sweep of the room, ensuring it was tidy, before landing on the berth once again. A bit of the tension left his shoulders. He loved his brother. Not only had Sunny brought him his morning ration of energon, he'd also managed to procure some breakfast for Amy and based on the smells emanating from the small container, it was something a little more substantial than Poptarts and a banana.

Sending a silent thank you to his twin for giving him one less thing to fret over this morning, he reached for the data pad that had been left and thumbed it on. He scanned over the note Sunstreaker had left and found himself smiling. It was more or less an explanation of where he'd gone off to. Sunny was good about things like that and it warmed Sides' spark to see his brother taking up his old interests. Sunny had also advised him to tell "the Squishie" good morning, ensure she ate, and that he'd see them both around noontime. He'd also mentioned a particular detail regarding "training" that had certainly piqued Sides' interest but that was something they'd take up later.

Placing the data pad aside, Sideswipe sank down to sit on the end of the berth. The time seemed to tick by slowly as he waited for Amy to complete her morning ritual and return. Excited though he was to start this first morning off together as what he'd already come to consider a family unit, he also had a bit of nagging apprehension in the back of his processor. They'd never gotten this far with a femme...emotionally speaking. Now that they were here, he couldn't imagine things any other way. It was both thrilling and frightening in a way he couldn't quite put into words.

There'd been a distinct pattern to their previous relationships, if one wanted to call them that. He wasn't entirely sure their exploits qualified, per se, but they were all he had to base their current situation on. There was always the initial intrigue when someone realized they were twins. It was typically what drew interest...the curiosity of what that could possibly entail. Then came what he'd heard humans refer to as the honeymoon stage. Everything would be fine so long as as they could keep their partner occupied which, admittedly, was never very long. It became apparent very quickly that, though they have may been twins, they were two very different mechs with very different personalities and very different needs. The final stage, when reality set in and it became apparent that being with them wasn't all endless fun and games, they'd find themselves right back at square one.

Just as he'd told Amy the night before, they weren't everyone's cup of tea.

The idea that she, too, could become overwhelmed, lose interest and leave worried him more than he'd like to admit. In fact, it was a fear that was always tucked away into the back of his processor. Sure, they'd exchanged spark energy with her on some level but that didn't guarantee that she found them engaging enough that she'd want to remain with them any more than was necessary for her own health and wellbeing. True, things seemed to be going well now but real life had already started to encroach on their little trio necessitating their new arrangement just so they could spend time with one another. How long would it be before she came to see them as more trouble than they were worth? He didn't even want to think about it.

If he could keep her busy, maybe she wouldn't notice how much work they really were...

"Back," Amy cheerfully announced as she finally walked back in the room.

Despite his worries, he felt his mood and concern lift considerably at her reappearance. His countenance brightened and he took a moment just to take her in. She'd redressed into civilian clothing—a pair of olive green pants and a long-sleeved black t-shirt that, at least in his opinion, complimented her quite well. She'd left her hair loose which, honestly, he preferred as he'd come to view that particular human attribute so far as she was concerned as something quite...exotic. He gazed at her adoringly, "Gorgeous as always."

"Thanks," Amy flushed pink. "I live out of a locker so my fashion options are kind of, uh, limited when I'm not working."

"If it makes you feel any better," he teased as he offered he a hand back up onto the berth, "we don't even own any clothes. Although, if we're talking armor," he added thoughtfully, "I did go through a red phase once."

"Really?" Amy looked the mech carefully up and down as she allowed him to lift her back up onto the berth.

"Mmhmm." Sides raised a brow plate at noticing her studying him, "What?"

"Nothing," Amy shook her head, smiling. "Just trying to picture you a different color."

"I find silver to be much more slimming," he chuckled as he settled himself on the berth next to her. "Speaking of which, I hope you're hungry because I think Sunny outdid himself. He says good morning, by the way, and that he'll be home for lunch."

Amy nodded in acknowledgment as she accepted the styrofoam container he passed to her. She cracked it open, her eyes widening slightly, "That's a lot of food..."

"Eat what you like," he advised as he punctured the seal on his cube of energon. "We're still getting a handle on this whole human food thing."

"Not that I don't appreciate it but, I can feed myself," she reminded as she lifted a forkful of pancake to her mouth. "I can grab my own food. Save you guys the trouble."

"It's no trouble, sweetspark," Sideswipe quickly insisted. "We're happy to do it. Really."

Amy chewed slowly, "Okay...if, if you're sure..."

"Positive," he grinned at her. "Oh, just so you know, I pulled a list of available activities from the MWR website. So, I was thinking that after breakfast we could get out and do a little exploring, maybe check out the Cannon Point Trail. Or, if you'd rather there's always movies in the lounge or video games. There's an arcade in MWR, I read. They also have pool tables and foosball and...

"Uh, Sideswipe?" Amy frowned.

"Tomorrow I was thinking we could..." the mech went on and on, reciting what seemed to be a never ending list of recreational activities. He apparently had an entire itinerary planned that accounted for her every waking moment.

She tried again, "Sideswipe?"

"I know, I'm really sorry that we're stuck on this island," he continued. "I know it can get kind of monotonous but i think if you really give it a chance-"

"Sideswipe!" Amy sat her breakfast aside, maneuvered herself up onto her knees and reached out, pressing her palms into the sides of the mech's face, finally silencing him.

"Ames...?" he looked at her, questioningly.

Amy smiled up at him softly, "You know you don't have to keep me entertained every second of every day, right?"

Sideswipe fidgeted, looking away.

Amy's frown reappeared, "What is it?"

"It's just..." He vented, "What if you get...bored?"

She looked at the mech incredulously, "Bored?"

"Yeah," he shook his head slowly. "I just...don't want you to get tired of being stuck here with us all the time."

"I am far from bored," Amy assured. "And I don't feel 'stuck'. I don't need to be constantly on the go to be happy. In fact, I guess I'm really kind of a homebody...maybe to spite the fact that I never really had one." She pondered that for a moment and shook her head. "I mean, I don't mind going out and doing things but I'm just as content to stay in. You don't have to go out of your way to keep me amused. I'm pretty low maintenance. Do you know what I'd be doing right now if I wasn't with you?"

Curious, Sides asked, "What would you be doing?"

Amy smiled, "I'd probably be holed up in the barracks reading a book."

Sideswipe looked slightly surprised, "Really? You like to read?"

"Very much," Amy nodded. "I always have. Read a good book and forget all your problems for a while, you know?"

"Huh..." Sides turned that bit of info over in his head and nodded. "Well...if you want, I have a few books backed up on data pads that I think are pretty good. I could run them through a translation program for you if you're interested in maybe reading them one of these days..."

"Really?" A bright smile lit Amy's face at the offer. The chance to share a bit of their culture, much as she had with Jazz and his music, was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. "That would be awesome! I'd love to read them! Thank you!"

"Whatever makes you happy, sweetspark," Sideswipe relaxed back into the berth, feeling marginally better.

Amy slowly returned her focus back to her breakfast and asked offhandedly, "Just out of curiosity, what would you be doing if you weren't sitting here with me right now?"

An idea struck him then. He grinned down at the woman, "I can show you if you'd like..."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The morning had passed by quickly. Of course, time always seemed to fly by when you were wrapped up in something you enjoyed. Sunstreaker had forgotten how much he loved painting. There was just something about finding a nice, quiet spot, tuning out the real world, and just letting the imagination flow that he found to be soothing...liberating even. It had been much too long since he'd last indulged his creativity and he looked forward to the opportunity to do it again tomorrow. Right now, however, he had other plans.

He stood right inside the hangar doors, leaned casually up against the frame and waiting patiently. He'd pulled a polishing cloth from subspace and was occupying himself by carefully cleaning the few wayward drops of paint that had managed to end up splattered on his fingers and dried into the joints. It was one of the few occasions when he didn't mind being a little dirty. He was willing to make small sacrifices for his art and a smudge of paint here and there wasn't a huge one.

Out of the corner of his optic, slight movement caught his attention. He could feel someone watching him intently, perhaps too much so. He turned his head to see the strange, bespectacled redhead staring wide-eyed at him over the wall of her cubicle as if he'd just dropped out of the sky. Which, technically, he supposed he had but it didn't make it any less creepy. Humans could be disturbing, yes, but this one was more unsettling than most. Her rumored unnatural fascination with his species coupled with her reportedly "inappropriate" contact with Mirage, Jazz's warnings to steer clear of her, and the cringe-inducing conversation Amy had relayed to them made him even more wary than he normally would have been. In short, she made his plates crawl.

There was only one human he could stomach the thought of being close to and she definitely wasn't her. He narrowed his optics, shooting her an icy cold glare that was capable of freezing the blood in the veins of its recipient. The woman's eyes widened comically for just a moment before she dropped back down behind her partition and out of sight. Not wanting to deal with her again, he decided to step right outside the doors and out of her line of sight, posting himself up against the exterior wall to keep his vigil. He didn't have to wait long.

He recognized the sound of his brother's engine before he could see him. A mere few seconds later, Sideswipe was pulling up in front of the building. His driver's side door popped open and the Squishie came stumbling out. Her face was pale and she looked slightly rattled. She shuffled away from his brother's alt form on wobbly legs, pivoting back on her heel to watch Sides transform back into his bipedal form before shifting her attention to him.

"Hey," she shakily greeted.

"Let me guess," Sunny raised a brow plate. "Closed driving course?"

Amy nodded, "Y-Yeah..."

Sunstreaker smirked, "And how did that go?"

"It was..." she started, frowned, then shook her head. "I...I think I saw my life flash before my eyes..."

"Relax, Ames," Sides chuckled, kneeling down and pulling the woman into a gentle embrace. "It wasn't that bad. I'm a great driver. I've been shot, stabbed, sprayed with acid, and set on fire but, I've never been in a car accident. Admit it," he grinned down at her. "You had fun."

"Yeah, okay." Amy paled a bit further at his mention of acid and fire but reluctantly admitted with a soft laugh, "Despite the near death experience, it was maybe kind of fun."

"Told ya," he gave her a gentle squeeze and released her, rising to his wheels. "Next time, you can drive."

"Right," Amy rolled her eyes as the three of them began to meander back into the hangar. "Next time."

Sunstreaker's mouth twitched with humor. He paused in his movement and turned to gaze down on the woman. "So, I hate to do this to you, Squishie, but there's a little training business Sides and I need to attend to before we can do anything else."

"Sure," Amy nodded. "No problem. I completely understand. Like I told Sideswipe, I can entertain myself. Do what you have to do."

"Oh," Sunny smirked, "I intend to."

Sideswipe snorted in amusement and added, "It shouldn't take very long but if you want, I can swing you over by the mess hall first if you want to grab some lunch."

"I've had my fill of being driven around today, thank you very much," Amy teased the mech. "Besides, I'm still pretty full from breakfast." She turned to Sunny, "Thank you for that, by the way."

"Anytime," he answered easily.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, "If you don't mind, I think I'll go check in with Jazz. For some reason, he worries if he doesn't lay eyes on me at least once a day."

"Worrying about you is kind of his job now, Squishie." Sunny informed, "That's what Guardians are supposed to do. He's just really good at it."

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed. "If he wasn't worried about you, we'd be worried about him. He thinks the universe of you, sweetspark...and he's not the only one."

Amy flushed, "Y-Yeah...I guess so."

"I know so," Sides cheerily replied.

"Well," Amy cleared her throat, "I'll, uh, just go then and let you guys handle your business."

Sunny asked, "Do you have your phone?"

"Yes," Amy confirmed, patting her back pocket.

"Good," Sunstreaker nodded. "We'll text you when we're done."

"Okay," Amy agreed with a smile and a nod. "I'll see you guys in a bit, then."

"Absolutely," Sideswipe winked. "Tell Jazz we say hi."

"Will do." Amy turned to wave at the pair over her shoulder as she made her way back out of the hangar the way they'd come.

Sideswipe sighed, "I miss her already."

"Yeah, well," Sunstreaker huffed, "Like you said, this shouldn't take long."

Sides quirked a brow, "You have a plan?"

"I'm going to do exactly what I said I was going to do," the yellow front liner states as-a-matter-of-factly. "I'm going to break his fragging face. He needs to learn to stay out of our business and leave her alone. She shouldn't have to listen to that scrap."

"Sunny," Sideswipe cautiously started, "I'm just as mad as you are but.."

"No buts," Sunny spat. "Trinket wants to run his mouth, I'm going to give him something to talk about."

"It's just..." Sides shook his head. "Things are going so well with Ames. I don't want us to frag that up..."

"We won't," Sunstreaker promised. "Training accidents happen. Prowl isn't going to think we'd be glitched enough to start a fight in front of a squad of Lennox's boys in the middle of a lesson."

Sideswipe smirked as his brother's plan became clear to him. "I know I've said it before but, Sunny, you're a genius."

"Yeah, yeah," Sunstreaker waved off his brother's compliment as movement out of the corner of his optic once again caught his attention. He turned his head in the direction of the motion, "The Pit are you looking at?"

That creepy fleshie again. What was her name? Macy? Marcy? Sunny really didn't care enough to find out. She was once again peeking over the top of her cubicle wall, watching he and his brother with wide-eyed fascination. She looked slightly flushed and something in her gaze didn't quite sit well with him. It was unsettling at the very best and at worst made him feel like he needed a good long scrub under scalding hot solvent.

"Well?" Sunstreaker demanded again? He glowered at the woman who, in return, shook her head vigorously in the negative before disappearing into her cubicle once again. He made a sound of disgust, "Fragging weirdo."

Sideswipe chuckled, "Be happy we didn't zap that one instead of Ames. Can you even imagine?"

"That's not even remotely funny," Sunny made a gagging noise. "Don't even joke about that."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

" _Everybody was Kung-fu fighting,"_ Bumblebee's speakers announced. " _Those kicks were fast as lightning..."_

The scout missed not being able to speak in his own voice. He knew Ratchet was doing his best with his limited supplies to fix it, but being effectively mute and having to rely on sound bites to get his point across could be inconvenient. That was especially true at times like this when he was trying to give specific instructions but he was making due with what he had to work with. Truthfully, he was greatly enjoying being back amongst his teammates. He was especially enjoying filling in for Ironhide while he was on the mend. He wasn't certain the Weapon Specialist would approve of his training methods being the hard aft that he was, but he was having fun and it seemed the new recruits he was instructing were enjoying themselves, too.

Having Mirage around helped, too. The mech didn't like getting his hands dirty if he could help it but didn't seem to mind being used for demonstrative purposes so long as no real damage was incurred. He was also helpful in the he was able to voice for Bee some of the more intricate concepts that radio sound clips didn't do justice. Currently, the infiltrator was helping him illustrate the fastest way to knock a mech off their feet in order to neutralize a threat and/or, in a worst case scenario, buy time for a strategic retreat. Small as the humans were, he was teaching them to improvise in order to accomplish the task.

" _Head, shoulders_ ," Bee indicated, pointing to the corresponding body parts on Mirage. " _Knees and toes_ ," he finished. He then pointed to the area on the mech's abdomen right below where the navel would have been were he human and tried to emphasize that area as his center of balance. " _Gravity is working against me...and gravity wants to bring me down..._ "

"So..." a soldier spoke up. "That's like, his tipping point?"

Bee nodded enthusiastically and pointed at the man, " _Ladies and gentleman! We have a winner!_ "

Mirage chimed in, "Enough force will make your _nemico_ bend forward like, how you say...a punch to the _intestino_."

" _Bang, bang shooting like a firing squad,_ " Bee agreed. " _Big guns blew me away._ " He continued on with his lesson, gesturing to the backs of Mirage's knees with a chopping motion. " _If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high...and you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low..._ "

"It is then easy to knock them off their _piedi_ by buckling their knees," Mirage translated.

"Blast 'em in the stomach then blast 'em in the knees," another soldier spoke up. "Seems easy enough but...what do we do once they're on the ground?"

Bumblebee nodded in response to the man's question and paused a couple seconds before answering, " _Now don't y'all, not for one second, think I won't just bust yo' head open..._ "

" _Morto_." Mirage clarified, "Make sure they cannot get back up."

The gathered humans nodded in solemn understanding.

" _And it goes a little something like this..._ " Bee looked to Mirage who nodded that he was ready.

The humans stepped back, giving the mechs room as the scout and the infiltrator squared off for a demonstration. It was all very by the book...Bee wouldn't dare break Ironhide's rules where safety was concerned. The two moved around one another, coming into striking distance. Mirage threw a half-sparked right hook toward Bumblebee's face which the scout caught with his left hand, forcing Mirage into opening his center up for attack. In one swift move, Bee jabbed the mech in the abdomen causing air to whoosh from his intakes as he bent double. The scout spun away slightly, using his elbow against the back of Mirage's head to force his momentum to keep going forward while at the same time swinging his leg out and catching the mech right behind the knees.

Mirage's knees buckled and he went crashing to the ground in a cacophony of sound. His impact made the hangar floor tremble. Before he could right himself and scramble back to his feet, Bee was standing over him. One of the scout's pedes planted itself squarely between his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. Rather than fight back as an actual Decepticon would no doubt do, Mirage lay still as the scout finished his demonstration by forming his index finger and thumb into the shape of a gun and pointed at the back of his head.

" _Bang_ ," a voice from Bumblebee's radio announced. " _Yer dead._ " He looked to the gathered soldiers, standing victoriously over his fallen training adversary. " _If it bleeds_ , _we can kill it_."

As he bent to help his sparring partner back up onto his pedes, the sound of a slow clap drew the scout's attention. The humans that had been surrounding he and Mirage paled and backed away a few more feet. Bumblebee was confused for a moment until he turned to see Sunstreaker ambling toward the group, his brother skating slowly along next to him. The look on Sunny's face told him that this wasn't a social call and the mech's questioning earlier in the day came flooding back into his processor. A look at his sparring partner told him all he needed to know. The look of dread on Mirage's face was as clear an indication as any that the mech had been sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Honestly, Bumblebee really liked the twins and got on well with them. They may have had a somewhat checkered past but they were good mechs, though not the easiest pair to get close to. He knew, however, that there were certain individuals who, though good intentioned, for some reason or another wouldn't or couldn't just let them be and it was a constant cause of friction. Their relationship with Jazz's adopted human, whom Bee had decided he also liked very much, seemed to only exacerbate the issue and that was one fight Bee refused to get caught up in.

The soldiers surrounding them made a hole, allowing Sunny and Sideswipe into the very midst of their training group before closing back in around them. The yellow front liner marched directly into the center of the crowd, coming to a halt right in front of Bumblebee. Sunstreaker looked the young mech up and down appraisingly while his brother made a circle around the group. Sideswipe appeared to be greeting the humans but Bee had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually wrangling Mirage who looked as though he was searching for a way to escape from the group unnoticed.

"Very nice, Bee," Sunstreaker complimented the younger mech. "Excellent take down."

" _Thank you_ ," Bee nodded. He took any praise from the former gladiator straight to his spark as a high honor. " _Thank you very much._ "

Sunny then turned to Mirage with an almost sinister sneer. "Or should I say...bravo?"

Mirage fidgeted nervously, "Grazie..."

"I dunno, Sunny," Sideswipe shook his head. "I mean, yeah, Bee was on point, but Mirage..." the mech made a tsk sound. "You looked kind of slow. Didn't really put up much of a fight, did you?"

"It was just for show," Mirage defended, backing slowly away. "For demonstration. Now training is over and I must go."

"You can't leave now," Sides insisted. "Sunny and I just got here..."

Bumblebee looked wide-eyed and panicky, " _We don't want no trouble..._ "

Sides continued his slow circuit of the training area, rolling close enough to clap the young mech on the back in a jovial manner. "It's no trouble, Bee. Sunny doesn't mind helping Mirage brush up on his hand-to-hand. I mean, who better, right?"

Bumblebee decided to take the mech's seemingly innocuous statement as a friendly word of caution not to get involved in whatever was happening. He nodded slowly. " _You may be right..._ "

"No," Mirage protested, vehemently shaking his head. "I do not need help."

"Oh, you need help," Sunstreaker disagreed with a dark grin. "You need lots of it."

 **End of Chapter 41**


	42. Chapter 42

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 42**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I'll keep this short and sweet so we can get right into it but, I will say that I enjoyed this. Probably too much. Thank you to those who've added this story to their alerts and follows and especially to my fantastic reviewers: 'Guest', bonnieandjangolove, shelby20125, SunnyandSidesFemme17, TheCauldron, jellybeanz513, Deimoss, Songbird's Spirit, o-dragon, Iron-rays, the everchanging, 'Anonymous', poppycakes, astrochrist, KayleeChiara, shizzlethis1, ElleGirl19, SoundlyManners, PepperCornPie**

 **I hope you all had a wonderful Valentines Day! I love you guys! - VQ**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

One moment Mirage was up on his pedes protesting and the next moment he was stumbling backwards as pain exploded through his face plates. The front liner had moved so quickly that he hadn't even had time to process it. He landed on his skid plate with an enormous thud. His hands flew to his face in order to assess the damage and came away wet and slick with energon.

"See what I mean?" Sideswipe casually commented to the surrounding group of soldiers, "That was just a quick jab. He totally should have been able to avoid that."

Optics wide, Mirage looked between the two mechs, " _Siete entrambi pazzi_!" He demanded, "Why do you do this?"

Sunstreaker shrugged, "Actions have consequences. Or don't they teach that up in the towers in Crystal City?"

"I do not know what you speak of," Mirage denied, trying to stem the flow of energon from his nasal cavity.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I speak of," Sunny growled as he again advanced on the mech.

The infiltrator looked to a very nervous-looking Bee in search of an ally in what was obviously a fight he hadn't been prepared for. "Bumblebee... _aiutami_..."

Bee shook himself free of the shock that had him rooted to the spot and moved to help the injured mech.

"Nope," Sideswipe laid a heavy hand on the younger mech's shoulder, halting him, and shook his head. "Just let it happen. This isn't something you want to get tangled up in. Trust me."

Bumblebee looked torn. He wanted to assist his comrade but he also didn't want to get involved in something that was quite obviously very, very personal between the twins and Mirage. He wrung his hands together worriedly and a low whine emanated from his damaged vocalizer. His processor turned over trying to think of how in the Pit he was going to be able to explain this to Prowl and Prime...and Ironhide. The scout shuddered but reluctantly nodded in acquiescence.

Sides patted him on the back, "Good mech."

Mirage glared at Bee in disbelief before trying to scramble back up onto his pedes but Sunstreaker was faster. No sooner had he regained his balance, he was pitching forward once again. Sunstreaker landed a particularly powerful blow to his abdominal plates that caused his ventilation system to seize up for a moment. It was disorienting enough that it gave Sunstreaker a perfect opening to literally kick his legs out from underneath him.

"Remember what Bee taught you about the center of gravity, kids," Sideswipe chirped. "Shovel hook to the body, quick stomp to the back of the knee and...look, he's on his aft again. See how easy that is? I hope you're taking notes."

"You and your brother are nothing but a pair of _delinquenti_ ," Mirage wheezed. One hand was clamped over his leaking face while the other was pressed against his aching abdomen.

" _If I were in your position_ ," Sunstreaker threatened, switching over to his native Cybertronian language, " _I'd shut my fragging mouth._ "

" _I feel sorry for the girl,"_ the infiltrator grunted, also taking up his native language as he tentatively picked himself up off the ground once more. He wobbled slightly on his pedes. " _Tragic...being trapped together with you two . Look how you behave. Completely uncivilized_..."

Bumblebee's optics widened, almost comically had the situation not been so serious. He shook his head vehemently back and forth, slashing his hands back and forth in front of himself in a 'stop' gesture in a vain attempt to shut Mirage up before he dug his hole any deeper. He felt Sideswipe stiffen, a low growl building in the mech's chest. Sunstreaker, his optics having taken on an almost purple glow, looked ready to rip the other mech apart at the slightest provocation. Mirage, however, seemed hellbent on his own destruction and completely ignored Bee's silent plea for civility.

" _I guess it is what they call karma, no_?" Mirage made a snuffling noise, gently wiping at his injured face with his fingers. He was hurt and angry and more than a little embarrassed and wasn't really thinking rationally about what was coming out of his mouth. He just wanted to hurt Sunstreaker back and knew that, physically, it was an impossibility. He used words instead. " _You go on and on about how much you dislike this planet and its inhabitants. Now, instead of a real femme, you and your brother are forced to settle for some small, lowly organic. It is a funny joke, yes_?"

That was the exact moment Mirage realized that he should have followed advice and kept his mouth shut. Once it dawned on him what he'd actually said, it was much too late to take it back and it was certainly too late to stop the mech's fist flying toward his face once again. A powerful uppercut caught him square in the nose. He'd felt something crack and heard metal crunch as Sunstreaker's fist made impact. His vision went dim for a brief moment. He'd seen the twins on the battlefield more times than he could could count. Sunstreaker, especially, could be exceptionally brutal, seeming to hold the enemy personally responsible for everything wrong in the universe. He was methodical, but now...Mirage had never seen him look so absolutely enraged. He was a proud mech, yes, but not so much not to admit that he was positively terrified.

" _I'll fragging kill you_ ," Sunstreaker seethed. " _Never talk about her like that_!"

The infiltrator reeled backwards, trying to escape, but the front liner was already charging forward once again. The mech's shoulder rammed into his chest plates, the force lifting him from the ground. A second later he was being slammed back down onto the cold, concrete floor hard enough to rattle his circuits. He lay flat on his back, blinking up at the ceiling. Before he even had a chance to right himself, Sunstreaker had taken hold of his arm, twisting it around in an impossibly unnatural and painful angle, forcing him to flip over onto his stomach for a modicum of relief. It was short lived, however.

Sunstreaker roughly dropped his knee into the center of Mirage's lower back, using his full weight to pin him to the ground and causing the mech's spinal strut to groan and protest in agony. He wrapped his right arm around the mech's neck, the crook of his elbow effectively compressing his vocal apparatus and rendering him speechless. He used his right hand to grasp his own upper left arm, wedging the palm of his left hand against Mirage's shoulder, further reducing his chance of escape. Bringing his elbows together, he exerted lateral pressure on both sides of the infiltrator's neck, effectively cutting off the flow of energon to his processor.

Mirage panicked, flailing in vain to free himself, fingers scrabbling at the arm around his neck. He could feel the delicate components in his throat being slowly crushed and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. His vision started to tunnel and his head began to swim. His struggles slowing as the beginnings of unconsciousness began to press in upon him.

" _You don't know a fragging thing about her or us_ ," Sunstreaker growled into the mech's audio. " _You don't have a slagging clue the Pit she's been through_. _I swear to Primus_ ," he vowed, " _keep messing with her and I will end you_. _Do you understand_?" He tightened his grip ever so slightly to get his point across.

"This is a handy trick to know," Sideswipe's casual commentary to the training group had taken on an edge of dark amusement as his brother literally choked the life out of Mirage. "Similar to your own circulatory system, there are two main energon lines that run up each side of the neck hidden behind the support struts and dermal plating. It's a difficult hold to master but if you get it just right and apply just enough pressure, you can compress those lines and render a mech unconscious fairly quickly. It's basically the Cybertronian version of a 'blood choke'. On the other hand," he added with tinge of worry, "a little too much pressure and you can snap their neck rendering them, well, dead. Uh...Sunny?"

The humans, unsure if what they were witnessing was an actual fight or simply part of the training program simply nodded as they looked on in awe.

Sunstreaker shot his brother an angry glare but relaxed his hold on the other mech just the same. Not too much, but enough to allow Mirage the opportunity to gasp and suck air down into his intakes and nod his head that Sunny's threat computed.

" _Si_ ," Mirage managed to croak. " _Capisco_..."

Sunstreaker held fast for another few seconds before abruptly letting the mech go and rocking back on his heels. He watched Mirage scramble to his hands and knees, gasping and gagging as he tried to regain his senses. He couldn't resist one final, loud smack to the back of the infiltrator's head before rising to his feet. Without so much as a final glance at Mirage, Bee, his brother, or the humans that surrounded them, he squared his shoulders and strode toward the exit. He'd made his point and there was nothing else to say.

"Alright," Sideswipe clapped his hands together, drawing the humans' attention away from where Mirage sat collapsed on the floor. "So, that concludes today's lesson. I hope you all take away from this demonstration the importance of minding your own slagging business. Bee," he nudged the scout. "You may want to take him to see Ratch, just saying."

Bumblebee, still slightly in shock, simply nodded.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, people," Sides grinned. "I know I will."

"That was fucking awesome," one of the soldiers remarked as Sideswipe quickly skated off after his twin.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Feel better?" Sideswipe leaned against the side of of one of the buildings, watching as his brother pulled a cloth out of subspace to clean specks of Mirage's energon from his knuckles. He also noted the small trace's of silvery-blue paint his brother hadn't quite been able to remove from in between the joints in his fingers. The two fluids mixed together in quite the poetic representation of the dual facets of his brother's personality.

"A little," Sunstreaker replied simply as he tucked the cloth away and began striding back toward the hangar that housed their living quarters. "Better than the Trinket is, I'm sure."

Sides vented and pushed himself off the wall to follow. "You were kind of hard on him, you know? You had me worried there for a second."

Sunny shot his brother a annoyed glance over his shoulder. "You heard what he said."

"Yeah," Sideswipe vented once more and nodded. "I did. I'm not saying it wasn't fragged up because it was, but...how much trouble do you think we'll be in when he goes crying to Prowl?"

"Who cares," Sunny shrugged. "It was worth it. Trinket's had it coming for a long time. He crossed the line. He needed to be knocked down a peg or two."

"Can't argue with you there," Sideswipe admitted with a frown. "I just...we're supposed to be working all the domestic stuff out with Ames this week. I don't want to jeopardize that. Especially not over that rust bucket."

"I'll take the full blame if it comes down to it. I did it for her. She has enough to worry about without that slagger constantly screwing with her head every chance he gets. I don't care who he thinks he is. No one frags around with my family and gets away with it." Sunstreaker growled, "No one."

Sideswipe couldn't help the fond smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. Regardless of what his brother may say or do, there was no questioning his absolute devotion and loyalty to those he cared for most. "I love you, Sunny."

"Yeah, yeah...you sentimental slagger. Back at you." Sunstreaker continued on without breaking his stride, "Let's go home and call the Squishie. Maybe we'll have time to explain before Prowl comes to drag us off to the brig."

"Yeah," Sides agreed, venting heavily. "Right behind you, bro."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Come on, scraplet," Jazz pleaded. "Back me up here. Tell the doc how wrong he is."

Jazz was once again in his usual spot in the med bay undergoing his usual battery of diagnostic tests and repairs. Amy was seated next to him on the edge of the medical berth keeping him company, her legs swinging back and forth in a relaxed motion. He'd been relieved when she'd come traipsing through the med bay doors with a smile on her face. He had to keep reminding himself over and over that she was technically a grown woman, at least by human standards, and that he couldn't baby her, no matter how tiny she may have seemed in comparison. He made a concerted effort to give her space to figure things out for herself but that didn't mean he didn't constantly fret over her. In fact, he'd been up almost all night worrying over how she was faring with the twins.

She looked good, though. The dark circles that seemed to forever hang beneath her eyes—a symptom of prolonged sleeplessness, according to Ratchet—were much less noticeable and hopefully a sign that she'd rested well. She seemed to be energetic and in an upbeat mood. The humans had a saying, 'bright-eyed and bushy-tailed'. He'd thought it completely bizarre when he'd first heard it spoken out loud by one of the marines. Obviously, humans didn't have tails, bushy or otherwise. However, if any a human ever fit such a description, it was certainly Amy at that very moment. He took it to mean that things had gone well and so didn't pry too much, instead deciding to simply enjoy her company while he had it.

"I don't know..." Amy started. "I mean, yeah, _Casino Royale_ was a great movie but...I have to agree with Ratchet on this one. Sean Connery is the best James Bond."

"Ha!" Ratchet paused in his sterilization of medical instruments and turned to face the pair. He grinned at the woman, "Smart femme. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Great minds and all that."

Amy laughed.

"Well, you're both wrong." Jazz declared as he chuckled and affectionately ruffled Amy's hair. "But it's alright. Agree to disagree. I still love ya." He thought a moment and then, "What about...best Bond villain?"

"Ooh...good one." Amy looked back to Ratchet to see where he stood on the subject.

"Hmm..." the CMO pondered the inquiry for a few seconds before answering with certainty, "Karl Stromberg in _The Spy Who Loved Me_ , 1977."

"Mmm..." Amy wrinkled her nose. "Why?"

"Why?" The CMO raised his brow plates. "A scheme to destroy civilization by hijacking the world's nuclear weapons and then rebuilding a new society of his own under the ocean isn't dastardly enough for you?"

"Yeah, but..." Amy shrugged, "He ends up getting shot in the balls."

Jazz snorted in amusement, "She's got a good point, Ratch."

"Oh?" Ratchet planted his hands on his hips and mock glared at the woman. "Then tell me, Miss Doe, which one measures up to your exceedingly high standards for crime and debauchery?"

"That's a no-brainer." Amy stated as if it was undisputed fact, "Auric Goldfinger in _Goldfinger_ , 1964."

Ratchet demanded, "Justification?"

'"Uh," Amy ticked off on her fingers, "Irradiating the gold supply in order to get rich. Industrial lasers. He holds Bond hostage almost the entire movie and would have killed him if it wasn't for Pussy Galore. He gets sucked out of a decompressing plane—way more dignified than getting shot in the crotch. Most importantly," she finished with a smile, "he had Oddjob who is, like, the best henchman ever."

"My baby girl," Jazz proudly announced, throwing an arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side. "I couldn't have said it better. You have redeemed yourself."

"Well that's a relief," Amy laughed and relaxed into Jazz's embrace.

"Yes," Ratchet chuckled and rolled his optics. "I suppose I'll let you have that one."

The med bay doors burst suddenly open, startling its occupants. Mirage came thundering inside, one hand clamped to his face while the other arm swatted angrily at the Autobot's scout who was following close behind and attempting to lend assistance. Amy could clearly see the sticky-pink of energon oozing slowly between his fingers and splattered in fat droplets across his chest plates and armor. She couldn't understand the heated litany of words that came rapid fire from the mech's mouth but it didn't sound in any way happy or pleasant. Bumblebee made a calming gesture which only resulted in further verbal abuse.

Ratchet dropped the tools he'd been cleaning onto the counter, all good-natured banter immediately forgotten, as he stomped over toward the pair meeting them halfway. "What in the name of Primus is going on here?"

Mirage continued to spit and curse in what Amy assumed was a mixture of both Cybertronian and Italian. That is, until the CMO reached out to pull his hand away from his face plates to examine the damage for himself. His verbal barrage turned into a whine of pain. Amy sucked in an involuntary breath, her own hand going to cover her mouth. It wasn't pretty.

The mech normally had quite sleek features. The bright red of his armor plates swept down over his forehead where it met the bridge of his nasal plates in a very fine seam. Now, however, the plating was lifted and crunched upward and outward away from his nose. It looked almost as if someone had crushed a giant red soda can and glued it right between his optics. A spidery web of what looked almost like cracks spread out from the damage. ruining the normally glossy finish. Energon slowly oozed from the wound. Through it's almost-oily sheen, Amy thought she could see shiny silver beneath. She also hadn't missed the dents and dings covering both his chest plates and abdomen.

As badly as she hated to admit it, the first thought that popped into her head upon seeing him centered on Sunstreaker.

Ratchet demanded, "What happened?"

Bumblebee shook his head back and forth, his hands raising into a defensive gesture, " _It wasn't me_..."

"I will tell you exactly what happened," Mirage yelled, once more finding his voice. "Those two _criminali_ assaulted me for no reason!"

Bee made a noise like he was clearing his throat, " _Well I wouldn't go that far_..."

Mirage whipped around to glare at the mech, "No one is talking to you! You just stand there and watch!"

The scout shrugged, " _Not my circus, not my monkeys_..."

"Go sit down," Ratchet snapped, seizing the irate mech by the shoulders and forcefully propelling him toward the nearest empty berth. "And stop yelling in my med bay!"

Reluctantly, Mirage did as he was told. As he passed by he finally took notice that Amy was in the room. He narrowed his optics at her, pointing at his ruined face, "You see what they do? Is it not like I said? They are _indegno_! Worthless!"

Amy's eyes widened. She wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for Mirage, hurt by his accusations, or angry at the way he constantly berated the twins in her presence. She settled for sympathy given his condition, softly asking, "Are...are you okay?"

The mech retorted sharply, "Do I look like I am okay?"

"That's enough," Jazz ordered, his voice taking on an authoritative tone that he seldom found need to have to use. He pointed to the berth, "Sit your aft down, close your mouth, an' let Ratchet look you over."

"You cannot speak to me like that..." Mirage began to protest.

"I just did," Jazz cut off his rant before it even started. He dared, "Do you wanna make somethin' of it?"

Mirage huffed angrily but remained silent, crossing his arms over his chest plates defiantly as Ratchet wheeled a cart full of equipment over and began assessing the extent of his injuries.

Just then, Amy's phone buzzed in her pocket. Fumbling, she fished it out with trembling fingers and thumbed the screen on to see that she had a text message. She read over it quickly, her eyes darting between her phone screen and the injured mech.

"Scraplet," Jazz lowered his voice to a gentle murmur, pulling the human's attention away from her phone and back to him. She was no longer so bright-eyed or bushy-tailed, instead she looked pale and slightly shaken. "Go home," he quietly instructed as he reached to help her down to the floor.

Amy blinked up at him as her feet touched the ground, "But..."

"Please," he asked again. "For me. Lemme find out what happened, do some damage control, and get this scrap sorted out, alright?"

"Yeah," Amy hesitantly agreed. If she could trust anyone, it was Jazz. "I...Okay..."

"Bee?" Jazz waved the scout over. "Do me a favor and see that she gets home, yeah?"

Bumblebee nodded enthusiastically, eager to put some distance between himself and the entire mess.

Amy allowed the mech to herd her quickly toward the exit. She took one last glance over her shoulder at Mirage as the doors closed behind them before shifting her attention up to Bee. "What happened?"

Bumblebee shrugged, not wanting to get any more involved than he already was. " _Your guess...is...as good...as mine_."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe paced the berth room nervously. He'd sent Amy a text letting her know they'd returned from their 'duties' and was anxiously awaiting her return. He wasn't sure what they were going to tell her when the 'Long Arm of the Law', aka Prowl, showed up to cart the two of them off to the brig. It was an inevitable scenario. He was sorry, not for Mirage as the mech had definitely had it coming. He was sorry that they'd made plans and promises to Amy and now they were falling apart right in front of his optics. So much time and encouragement had gone into convincing her to just give them a chance and they'd gone and fragged it up...good intentions or no.

A soft tap at the door had him nearly sprinting across the small space to open it. He wrenched it back on its track, finding Amy standing right outside, her hands buried in her pockets and her eyes staring sullenly down at the floor. Despite the anxiety he felt, he forced a bright smile, "Sweetspark! I told you we wouldn't be long."

Amy said nothing. She simply walked passed him into the room and headed straight for the couch. She collapsed down upon it, scrubbing her hands down her face before asking in a quiet voice, "Where's Sunstreaker?"

"He, uh," Sides fidgeted. "He ran to the wash room really quick to clean his hands. He'll be right back. How was your visit with Jazz?"

"It was great," Amy sighed and looked at the mech pointedly. "Until Mirage stormed in half out of his mind, bleeding everywhere, with half of his face looking like crumpled up tin foil. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

"Ames," Sideswipe's face fell into an expression of guilt and concern. He moved quickly to where she was seated and knelt down in front of her, carefully taking her very small hands into his own. "Sweetspark...please, please don't be mad. We can explain..."

Ames looked at the mech incredulously. "He said the two of you came up and assaulted him for no reason!"

"That's not what happened," Sideswipe denied. "I swear, Ames. I'd never lie to you, not in a million years."

"Then tell me," she pleaded. "What the hell happened?"

"He got exactly what was coming to him." Sunstreaker answered casually as he casually walked through the open door, closing it behind him. "Does that answer your question?"

"How can you say that?" Amy shook her head, staring at the mech in disbelief. "Have you seen his face?"

"Seen it?" Sunstreaker raised a brow. "Squishie, I'm the one who rearranged it. Don't feel sorry for Mirage. The only one he has to blame for the state he's in is himself. If he'd minded his own business his aft wouldn't be sitting in the med bay right now."

"But," Amy blinked, trying to wrap her head around what had went wrong. "Last night...I thought we were okay..."

"We're just fine," Sunny smirked. "The Trinket was the problem. Now, he's not."

Amy again shook her head, "I don't understand..."

"Oh, come on," Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "Don't give me that slag. You're an intelligent femme. You understand perfectly fragging well. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

Sideswipe frowned at his brother's tone, "Sunny..."

"No," Sunstreaker cut his brother off. "She wants to know what happened. Fine." He glared down at the woman. "His entire life Mirage has has everything handed to him on a goddamn silver platter and it doesn't compute in his head how a couple nobodies from the fragging slums of Cybertron managed to find the single good thing this mud ball planet has to offer while he's still sitting in his room alone watching slagging soap operas. Being the pompous aft he is, he tried to get to us by messing with you. I called him out on it and he had the ballbearings to say that you're not good enough, that you're some kind of slagging joke. So," he shrugged, "I caved his fragging face in."

"Why?" Amy demanded, unshed tears burning in her eyes. "Why would you do that? I don't care about any of that! I told you, what he says doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me," Sunstreaker snapped back. "As much as I want to, I can't go back and fix all the horrible scrap that you've been through but I can shut that slagging Trinket's mouth in the here and now! I'll be damned straight to the Pit before I'll let him talk about you like you don't matter because you fragging do, alright?"

Amy's bottom lip trembled and a single tear managed to escape her right eye. She quickly wiped it away. "Sunstreaker..."

"I'm not apologizing for what I did," the mech added in a more subdued tone. "I'm not sorry. You deserve better than the way you've been treated. I'm not going to just stand there while some self-important piece of scrap runs you down." He shook his head and vented heavily, "Primus, bright spark, I just..."

"Open up," Prowl's voice filtered through the door followed by three solid knocks.

"Slag it," Sideswipe muttered, rising to his wheels. He called out, "Can you give us a klick? We're kind of in the middle of something."

"Now," the SIC commanded.

"Spawn of Unicron," the silver twin cursed as he moved to the door. He looked to his brother but received no input on whether or not to let the mech in. So, Sideswipe drew air down deep into his intakes and pushed the door back on its track. He offered the mech standing on the other side of it an anxious grin. "Hey, Prowl."

The SIC raised a brow, "Do I need to tell you why I'm here?"

"Uh," Sides rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Is it about that training incident earlier?"

"Indeed," Prowl answered crisply, his sharp optics carefully surveying the room and its occupants. Sideswipe fidgeted under the intense scrutiny which was highly unusual as he typically had a lackadaisical attitude toward breaking what he believed to be nonsensical rules and regulations and viewed punishment as par for the course. Sunstreaker, on the other hand, tended to rail against authority and all the trappings that came with it. He was currently leaned up against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest plates, and staring at the floor. Neither twin had a scratch on them which, honestly, wasn't too surprising. Mirage, on the other hand, was still in the med bay with Ratchet having the dents beat out of his face with a ball-peen hammer.

The only person Prowl felt sorry for in the entire situation was the young woman sitting across the room on the couch looking utterly hurt and confused. None of this was her fault and yet the look on her face said that she believed otherwise. She was in a situation well beyond her control and the current circumstances couldn't be helping. He hated to add to the strain he was certain she was under but he still had a function to perform. Rules were rules.

He acknowledged her with an apologetic tilt of his head. "Petty Officer Doe, I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I'm going to have to ask Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to come with me. You do understand?"

Amy said nothing, merely nodded her head in the affirmative.

Sunstreaker pushed off the wall with an irritated huff, "Let's get this slag over with." He brushed roughly by the SIC on his way out into the hall.

Sides was more hesitant to leave. He looked worriedly to the femme, "Ames...?

"Just go," she answered in a small voice colored with disappointment and disbelief.

"Don't leave," Sideswipe begged as the SIC took hold of his arm to lead him away. "Stay here..."

"Sideswipe" Prowl tugged on the mech's arm as he locked his wheels, refusing to move. "Let's not make this any more difficult than it has to be."

Sides glared at Prowl, "Wait a second." He turned back to Amy, "Don't go anywhere, Ames, alright? Just wait here...please?"

"Sides..." Prowl warned. "I'm not asking you again. I'm sure you don't want this to turn into a scene."

"Okay, okay," the mech relented. He cast one final look back over his shoulder at Amy with pleading optics. "I'm going..."

Prowl vented heavily as he finally managed to maneuver the front liner out of the room. He turned to Amy, "I'll do my best to have this matter expedited. Again, you have my sincere apologizes."

Amy shook her head, "It isn't your fault."

"Nor is it your's." The SIC gave the woman a small but sincere smile, barely a quirk of the lip plates. "Don't worry over the twins. These things have a way of blowing over. They'll be fine."

She nodded in understanding and watched as Prowl turned and left, shutting her inside the twins' quarters all alone.

Not knowing what else to do, Amy curled up on the couch and clutched one of the pillows to her chest. Her eyes darted around the now silent quarters. The space seemed much too big and much too quiet without the presence of the twins filling it. She honestly didn't know what she was going to do with the pair of them. One day into their trial period of living together and Prowl was already hauling them off to only God knew where and for how long. She didn't doubt their sincerity or their motivation but their method...well, that was another story.

She thought seriously about it for a moment but decided that couldn't just pack up and go back to the barracks. Well, she could, but if she were honest that wasn't what she wanted. Regardless of what they may or may not have done to Mirage, good reasoning or no, she couldn't just leave and it had little if nothing to do with her physical dependency on the two of them. They, like Jazz, had become an integral part of her life. It was hard to explain without ever having had a point of reference by which to compare. Despite Prowl's reassurance, she couldn't help but worry. She just hoped he was right and that this, too, would blow over.

 **End of Chapter 42**


	43. Chapter 43

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 43**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Sorry this chapter was so long coming...it turned into a MONSTER! I thought about chopping it in half but then was like, meh. I'll let it go till it decides to stop on its own but then I ended up with over 14k words. I could've written more but I had to stop myself. I need help, ya'll, lol. But, I needed to take care of some more housekeeping items and if you look close, you may even see a clue as to what might actually be happening to our long-suffering heroine. I even threw a special treat in here as a thank you for being such a wonderful and patient audience—I thought we were due for some smooches and fluff and maybe something kinda...I dunno, suggestive? If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now...I don't normally write risqué material so it is what it is. I tried. That said, things will get better, at least for now. We still have Decepticons to worry about.**

 **Thanks so much for all the follows and faves. I'm thrilled to know you're enjoying the story. Special thanks to my always-wonderful reviewers: Songbird's Spirit, bonnieandjangolove, monkeybaby, KayleeChiara, o-dragon, HalfwayParanoid, Othersideof, shelby20125, 'Guests', Anonymous, SunnyandSidesFemme17, poppycakes, jellybeanz513, Leonixon, Deimoss, the everchanging, 2lazy to login (I feel ya man, lol), xIliadx, .Princess, aquarius89**

 **If i missed anyone, I do apologize :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Optimus Prime was, the vast majority of the time, a very patient mech. He was well aware that in any group setting there would be those who wouldn't or couldn't get along for whatever reason. Add to that the strain of being far from home on alien terrain and dealing with the whole slew of conflicts that came along with it, the occasional scuffle was bound to happen. This was especially true in situations where those involved had such vastly different upbringings, backgrounds, and social status. He always tried very hard to see both sides of any argument in order to bring about the most fair and just outcome that he could for all involved. It seemed, however, that it had been the same three individuals repeatedly gracing his office ever since they'd arrived on the planet.

It was, to put it simply, a complete conflict of personality that was beginning to get quite old.

Mirage came from old money. He had traveled in social circles in which wealth and privilege had been the rule rather than the exception. He had wanted for nothing and had become accustomed to a certain standard of living among a certain class of people. The war had changed all that. To use a human phrase, he'd become a fish out of water. The mech had been forced outside of his very cushy comfort zone, thrown into the mix with people that he would have never, not in a million years, even dreamed of interacting or socializing with. The war may have decimated their home but it had done little to change Mirage's mindset. Though Prime much appreciated his contribution to the effort and willingness to be a part of the team, he was well aware of Mirage's tendency to view himself as superior in both breeding and status in most social circumstances. It was a point of contention that tended to grind the gears of those around him...some, of course, more than others.

The twins were the complete opposite in nearly all aspects. They'd grown up orphans, living hand to mouth, in arguably the very worst part of Cybertron. Prime, however, admired their tenacity and strength of spirit. They'd experienced first hand the totalitarian brutality of Decepticon rule and had seen the very worst the war had to offer with their own optics. They'd been forced to rely on their wits and their fists in order to survive. Yet, despite everything, they had come out the other side far stronger for all the trials and tribulations they'd experienced. They knew well that not everyone looked upon them in a favorable light, thinking them too rough around the edges. Some stopping just short of outright accusing them of being the very thing they fought against. They were forced to prove themselves and their loyalty over and over again to assuage the wariness and suspicion some carried towards them. They were good mechs, however, and Prime knew they weren't the loose cannons certain individuals made them out to be. They certainly didn't go around indiscriminately punching people in the face. That, it seemed, was a privilege they'd reserved solely for Mirage.

Optimus vented tiredly, his fingers rubbing at the spot of tension that had settled itself right between his optics. "What's the extent of the damage?"

"Cosmetic, mostly," Ratchet replied from where he leaned against the wall next to the door in Prime's office. "I've no doubt had Sunstreaker wished to seriously hurt him that he would have. As it stands, I think Mirage's pride sustained the most grievous injury. Physically speaking, he should be fine in a couple of days."

"And the twins?" Prime asked.

"Not so much as a scratch on either of them." Ratchet smirked, slightly amused, " Not too surprising given the circumstances."

"Do we know what caused this latest altercation?" Prime looked to his SIC.

Prowl nodded, "I spoke with Bumblebee. He stated that a rather unflattering exchange took place in reference to the twins' relationship with Petty Officer Doe prior to the incident escalating. However, the twins were already geared up over something when they arrived on scene."

"Humph," Ratchet huffed, crossing his arms over his chest plates. "Primus only knows. The twins and Mirage are like oil and water, as the humans say. They simply don't mix. You'd think he'd eventually learn to stop picking at them...especially over such a sensitive subject. It's only asking for trouble."

"This behavior cannot be allowed to continue...on either side," Optimus agreed. "We're ending this now. One way or another," he stated simply. "Send them in."

Ratchet quietly excused himself from the room to return to his duties in the med bay as Prowl opened the door to the office. The SIC's optics met those of the Third in Command who'd been waiting patiently right outside. Jazz had been sparksitting for lack of a better term. He was keeping the two offending parties, both of whom still seemed to be quite on edge, separate and calm...at least for for the most part. Prowl knew his friend was trying very hard to be an impartial third party but that it was difficult to do so when circumstances centered around something so near and dear to his spark.

"He'll see them now," Prowl announced.

Jazz nodded in acknowledgment. You heard the mech," he ordered. "Let's go."

"I am ready," Mirage gingerly rose from where he'd been sitting on a shipping crate. His voice had an almost nasally quality, an underlying whistle stemming from his injured nasal plates which had been freshly tack welded back together curtesy of Ratchet. He glared at the twins, his face still throbbing. "Perhaps these _stronzi_ will finally get what they deserve."

"Watch your mouth," Jazz ordered, and roughly pushed the mech on through the door. "Save whatever you have to say for Optimus."

"See?" Sideswipe chuckled as he moved toward the office. "I told you, that slagger can't keep his trap shut. That's why his face looks like he had a head on collision with a freight train. Ow!" Sides winced as Jazz smacked him in the back of the head. His hand flew up to rub the tender spot. "What did you do that for? That hurt!"

"Your head ain't the only thing goin' to be hurtin' if you don't shut your mouth an' get in there," Jazz threatened. "Prime is the least of your worries right now."

Sideswipe frowned but closed his mouth and did as he was told.

Jazz turned to look at the yellow twin who seemed content to glare back at him. He warned, "Don't even get me started. Trust me, ya don't wanna go there right now." The TIC tipped his head in the direction of the door. "Let's go."

Sunstreaker glared at the mech for another long moment before venting heavily and trudging into the office.

Jazz, bringing up the rear, sighed and shook his head. "Kids..." he muttered to himself as he, too, entered the office and closed the door behind himself. He took up his usual place for disciplinary proceedings at the rear of the room, behind and in between the opposing parties, ready to jump in and lend assistance if need be. He stood silently, though there was plenty he'd like to say. He'd hold his glossa...for now, at least.

Mirage sat to one side of the room, most of his gusto seeming to have evaporated in the presence of the Prime. He no longer seemed so inclined to voice his thoughts as loudly as he had been. Instead, he sat up straight in his seat, hands folded primly in his lap, with his optics fixed on a spot on the far wall. He made the occasional snuffling noise, wincing slightly as he did so. The slight whistling had stopped, however, as he'd decided to draw ventilation's through his mouth instead. In all, he looked decidedly uncomfortable.

The twins had taken up residence on the opposite side of the room. Sideswipe still had a frown firmly set on his face. He kept his gaze to the ground in front of him and his hands clenched on his knees. He looked as though his thoughts were a million miles away. Sunstreaker sat to his right, slightly slouched down in his seat. The yellow twin's arms were crossed over his chest plates and his left leg bounced repeatedly up and down in an agitated manner. His steely gaze threatened to burn a hole right through the wall. Anger would have been the first emotion that came to mind upon observing the mech, but a closer look would have shown frustration to be the root cause of Sunny's unrest.

Prime eyed his three troublemakers and shook his head in a disappointed manner. "This," he sternly observed, "is becoming an all too familiar occurrence." He leveled his gaze on the twins. "Would either of you care to explain why you felt it necessary to accost your teammate? In front of a group of humans, no less?"

Sideswipe drew air down deep into his intakes in preparation to answer, to offer an explanation that might soften the blow to their arrangement with Amy, but his brother beat him to it.

Sunstreaker glowered across the aisle at Mirage, "Would our teammate care to explain why he finds it necessary to stick his fragging nose into situations that don't concern him?"

Mirage looked affronted. "I have no idea what he is talking about," he denied. "They are _reprobi,_ the both of them!"

That's enough with the name callin'," Jazz warned. "I'm not tellin' you again."

"He knows exactly what he did," Sunstreaker insisted. "Mirage started this whole thing by running his slagging mouth, spouting lies about us to the Squishie."

"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed. He turned in his chair and looked back to Jazz, "He's been messing with Ames every chance he gets. If you don't believe us, you can ask her."

Jazz frowned, "She hasn't mentioned anything to me."

"Of course she hasn't," Sunny rolled his optics. "We had to practically pry it out of her when she wouldn't tell us what was wrong. You know as well as we do that she doesn't want anyone fussing over her. She could be laying there dying and she'd still look you straight in the optic and say she was fine."

"They are the liars," Mirage insisted. "I do not harass _la signorina_. She deserves to know who she is tied to. I only tell her the truth."

"The truth about what?" Sideswipe scoffed, "You don't even know us well enough to have an opinion one way or the other."

"I know what I see," Mirage sniffed. "You are indiscriminate and unrefined."

"I'll show you indiscriminate," Sunny's hands tightened into fists, the only thing stopping him from providing the infiltrator with a blow-by-blow replay of their earlier entanglement was a stern look of warning from his brother and the sudden appearance of Jazz's hands upon his shoulders, holding him down where he sat.

"Keep your aft in the chair," Jazz advised in a low tone only Sunstreaker could hear.

Prowl leveled his piercing gaze on the infiltrator, "Bee did mention that there were words exchanged. Some not particularly polite in regards to Petty Officer Doe. Do you care to explain?"

Mirage made a nervous sputtering sound. "I was upset," he quickly excused. "I was punched in the face. I do not know what all I said."

"He called her a slagging joke," Sunny sneered. "A lowly organic..."

"That's not all," Sides added. "He's been going around telling her all kinds of scrap about how we're all basically just using her as a means to an end. You know her, Jazz. How do you think that makes her feel?"

Jazz's frown deepened, his attention shifting from the twins to Mirage, "Is this true?"

The mech fidgeted, "She seems a nice, young femme. I...worry."

"Let me make one thing very clear," Prime rumbled, settling his stern gaze on the infiltrator. "Petty Officer Doe is a valuable member of this team. As such, she is to be treated with the same respect and professional consideration you'd give anyone else." Prime continued, "Furthermore, her personal relationships with Jazz and the twins do not involve you. This is an extremely serious and delicate situation that we are doing our very best to balance to everyone's benefit, her's included. If you have any concerns, they are to be directed to myself, Prowl, or Jazz. You do not take out your issues with the twins on Petty Officer Doe. Do I make myself clear?"

Mirage, looking thoroughly chastised, nodded his head. " _Si, Comandante_."

"As for the pair of you," Optimus shifted his focus to the twins, "do we really need to have this conversation again? I don't expect the two of you and Mirage to be the best of friends, but neither will I stand for physical altercations between my crew members. These are critical times. Our priorities need to be focused on containing the threat to Earth, preventing the Decepticon forces from regrouping, and ensuring the Allspark remains hidden and protected. In order to do that, this crew must be operating to 100% of their ability. That cannot happen if we're infighting and causing injury amongst ourselves." Prime vented and shook his head. "I understand the desire to protect those you care about. I truly do. However, I strongly suggest you find the means to do so that does not involve causing bodily harm to your teammates. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sides murmured.

"Sunstreaker?" Prime eyed the yellow twin.

"Yeah," The mech responded after a moment. "Whatever."

Prime again vented tiredly, turning his attention to his Second in Command. "Have you worked out a suitable disciplinary action given the circumstances?"

"Yes, sir," Prowl answered crisply. "Given current concerns in regards to safeguarding the Allspark, maintaining situational preparedness, and our limited manpower with which to do so, I recommend forgoing brig time in exchange for doubled security detail for the next deca-cycle. To be effective immediately."

"I find that acceptable," Prime agreed, looking to his TIC. "Jazz?"

Jazz nodded, "Sounds fair enough to me."

"Make it so," Prime declared with tired ventilation. He tapped the data pad on his desk, bringing up the watch bill. "Sunstreaker, beginning this evening, you will take over both the 1200-1600 and the 1600 to 2000 patrol."

The yellow front liner merely inclined his chin in acknowledgment.

"Sideswipe," Prime continued, "You will pick up the 2000-2400 rounds as well as the 2400-0400. You may alternate daily shifts between the two of you should you wish."

"Understood." Sides nodded, some of the tension he'd been carrying leaving his shoulders. At least they wouldn't be confined to the brig. All wasn't lost.

"What?" Mirage bristled. "That is all? They assaulted me!"

"I'd be more than happy to lock them up in the brig for a few days." Prowl leveled his gaze on the infiltrator. "That is, if you'd like to fill in the gaps in the watch rotation their incarceration would cause?"

Mirage huffed, crossing his arms over his chest plates, but said no more.

"Since we're all here, I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind you all of the need for discretion where Petty Officer Doe is concerned." Optimus gave Jazz a knowing look, "Though we remain supportive of this relationship, you must bear in mind that our human friends, due to their lack of understanding and experience in these types of situations, would most likely not be as accepting. I don't think I need to go into the complications such a revelation could cause between ourselves and our allies. I simply ask you all to bear that in mind the next time you're considering making a spectacle of yourselves in public. Now," Prime folded his hands atop his desk, "If there are no further questions or issues anyone would like to raise, you're all dismissed."

Without another word, Mirage stood and quickly vacated Prime's office.

The twins lingered a moment longer, sharing a relieved look between themselves before they, too, rose from their seats and headed for the exit.

Jazz politely excused himself and followed the pair out into the hangar proper, stepping in front of them to block their path. "Where do you two think you're goin'?"

"Uh," Sideswipe looked at Jazz like he'd gone senile. "Home?"

Sunstreaker frowned, "To relieve the fragging watch."

The TIC shook his head, "I don't think so." He pointed in the direction of Prowl's empty office. "Get in there. We need to talk."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy had sat on the couch staring off into space for what felt like hours. Alone in the twins' quarters, she'd lost all sense of time. A quick look at her watch, however, told her it had only been about forty-five minutes. It was more than enough time for her imagination to run rampant, however. She wondered where Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had been taken and what was happening to them. She wondered exactly what had transpired to earn Mirage the beating he'd endured. Mostly, she wondered what in the world she was supposed to do now besides sit and stew in her emotions.

She was angry. That was a given. She was also disappointed. Regardless of her misgivings, she'd actually been enjoying herself up until this point. Though it had only been the first morning of their week-long agreement, it had been a pleasant one and she'd been very much looking forward to the rest of the week. Less than one day in, however, and the cops—or a cop car, at the very least—had already broke down their door. Had she not been an active participant in the drama, she probably would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

Yet, despite her anger and disappointment, there was a small part of her that was touched in a weird way. She didn't approve of violence. She'd been on the receiving end enough times that she'd grown to naturally abhor it outside of absolute necessity. The idea of anyone fighting over her, of all people, was a foreign concept and caused more than a little distress. The closer she'd become with the twins, the more she'd come to recognize and understand the patterns in their behavior. She was by no means an expert, but that same, small part of her was able to acknowledge the protective drive behind what they had done. Acknowledgment and approval, however, were two different things.

The first inklings of restlessness began to prickle through her. Sideswipe had asked her to stay, to wait, but she couldn't sit still...not with all the thoughts tumbling around in her head. She needed to get up. She needed to move around. As she rose out of her stupor and approached the door, it was at that moment she realized that she was more or less trapped inside the space. Prowl had, she believed inadvertently, shut her in when he'd come for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

She eyed the enormous door. It was a heavy, single-slide hangar door built in two parts. Under normal circumstances, a hydraulic motor would have pulled each section into the door pocket allowing anyone with the ability to press a button the means by which to access and exit the space. Whoever had installed this door, however, must have believed that giant, metal aliens needed no such help. As fit as Amy was—a body builder by no means, but certainly capable of easily passing the PRT every six months— she wasn't sure she possessed enough muscle power on her petite frame to facilitate her escape but she wasn't going to let that stop her from trying.

"Alright," she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She rubbed her hands together in preparation, trying to psych herself up. "You can do this..."

With nothing to grasp onto for leverage, she was much too short to reach the handle that had been welded up high for the mechs' use, she planted her hands flat against the first panel and tried to push/slide the door toward the pocket on the left. She strained, pressing her entire body weight into the effort. The door groaned slightly under the pressure but she couldn't be sure if it was actually moving or whether her sweaty hands had simply slid a bit. Puffing out a breath, she turned her attention to where the door met the jamb. Maybe pulling would be easier? Her fingers dug into the crevice and scrabbled against the door frame. She just managed to get the edges of her short-trimmed nails into the space. If she could just make the gap wide enough to get a good grip, then maybe...

Maybe it was a hopeless endeavor and she should just sit back down on the couch and wait for the twins to come back. If they could come back. For all she knew they were sitting in the brig. Which brought her full circle to the issue at hand. She needed to get out.

"No one likes a quitter, Amy," she reminded herself. Pressing her palms back onto the door's surface, she pushed as hard as she could. She grunted with the strain, hearing the door creak on its track as it shifted minutely against her assault. She relented, sweat beginning to bead on her brow as she leaned against the door to catch her breath. She took a moment to gather her strength before once again trying to wedge her fingers into the gap between the door and its framing.

Surprisingly, she found she was able to squash her fingers in up to the second knuckle. She cheered mentally at her accomplishment before schooling her face into a mask of grim determination. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her grip the best she could and, balancing on her left foot, propped her right up against the door frame for added leverage. She didn't need to open the door completely, she just needed a space big enough to shimmy through.

In her head, she counted. _One. Two. Three._

She pulled with all her strength while at the same time pushing with her leg. The door groaned in protest. Her now sweaty hands slipped slightly, forcing her to stop, wipe them on her pants, and readjust her hold before trying again. She pulled/pushed, feeling the door move slightly. A quarter of an inch. Half an inch. Now she was getting somewhere. She paused, once again wiping her hands and gearing up to try again. She assumed the position, getting ready to have another go at it, when the door was suddenly flung back on its track, slamming into the pocket with a solid clang.

"Shit," Amy cursed as the door was ripped from her grip and she struggled to remain standing upright on one foot. She flailed, trying to regain her balance but it was too late. She toppled backwards, landing solidly on her tailbone with a painful, "Oof!"

A gruff voice asked, "What were you doing shut in there by yourself?"

It took Amy a brief moment to get her bearings. As she rolled onto her hands and knees to gingerly push herself off the floor, wincing as she did so, she became aware of the large shadow looming over her. She tilted her head back, more than a little surprised to see Ironhide glowering down at her with a look of consternation on his face. She carefully rose to her feet and dusted off the back of her pants, noting the ache at the base of her spine. She was definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

"It, uh..." she shrugged, giving the mech an embarrassed half smile. "It was an accident. The twins got into some trouble and Prowl came and...yeah..."

"Right," The mech agreed. "I heard about that. Heard Sunny messed Mirage's face up pretty good. What happened?"

"Yeah," Amy frowned, her upset over the situation sparking back to life now that she was freed of her confines. "I'm, uh, not really sure..."

"Ah, well. Sorry I missed it," Ironhide continued on, looking amused and completely oblivious to the woman's mood. "There's been more than a few times I'd like to have popped that slagger in the face plates, myself."

"Right, well..." Amy huffed in incredulity as an awkward silence settled between them. She'd never really spoken to Ironhide for any longer than it took to carry out her duties. She always got the distinct impression that the mech didn't particularly care for her. Though, she couldn't recall anything she may have said or done to cause him any offense. She shuffled her feet and stuffed her hands into her pants pockets.

The mech continued to stare down at the woman.

"So...uh," she fumblingly started, trying to ease the strange tension in the air, and wishing she weren't so socially awkward. "It's good to see you're feeling better. I bet, uh, I bet you're glad to be out of the med bay, huh?"

Ironhide carefully studied the femme for a moment. She was obviously uncomfortable but, aside from that, not any different than any of the other humans he'd seen scurrying around the place so far as he could tell. He couldn't pinpoint anything special or distinct about her that would justify the sort of strange relationship she and the twins shared. Just like every other human he'd encountered, she was small and squishy, and not really impressive in his opinion. Still, despite his distaste, he recognized her attempt to be polite and so responded.

"Yeah," he finally agreed brusquely. "A little Ratchet goes a long way."

"I don't know," A fond smile came to her lips. "I kinda like Ratchet."

"I'm sure you do," Ironhide's voice had an edge to it.

Amy's smile immediately crumpled, a confused look taking its place. His gruff, sarcastic tone making her feel wary and just the slightest bit self-conscious. She asked, even though she dreaded the answer, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hide shrugged, "Just that you seem to get on _really well_ with people outside of your own species. Maybe a little _too_ _well_."

Amy frowned, "I don't understand..."

Ironhide snorted, "Oh, I think you do."

Realization settled over Amy like a dark cloud. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Ironhide looked a bit taken aback by the question, "The Pit makes you say that?"

Amy looked away, swallowing hard, "I've gotten pretty good at being able to tell when someone doesn't want me around. You definitely wouldn't be the first..."

"Look," Ironhide started, suddenly feeling as though he'd just kicked one of those slobbery, four-legged, baby canines humans seemed to love so much at the sight of the femme's defeated-looking expression. "It's not that I don't _like you_...I just don't agree with this whole interspecies thing everyone one else seems to be so on board with...it's not natural."

"I get that," Amy nodded, completely understanding, though it did sting to hear. "I truly do. I know it's weird. It's still hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes...well...most of the time, actually."

The candid admission caught the mech slightly off guard. "Is that so?"

She shook her head. "I still don't know how this happened...or why this happened. It doesn't really make any sense, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," he hesitantly agreed. However distasteful he found the whole affair, he'd never really stopped to consider how bizarre the whole thing must seem from a human perspective. The fact that the very human involved seemed to harbor misgivings of her own made him feel slightly defensive for some reason. "You're not...happy with the arrangement?"

"I didn't say that," Amy denied. "It's just..." she frowned. "Its just not what I signed up for, I guess. Ever since I got here things have been just completely insane. It's like a roller coaster you can't get off of."

Ironhide mulled that over for a moment. The small femme had piqued his curiosity. He considered the possibility that, perhaps, she wasn't the conniving organic infiltrator he'd made her out to be in his own mind, but rather was simply a victim of circumstances beyond her own control. He asked, "Would you? If you could?"

Amy blinked up at him questioningly, "Would I what?"

"Get off," he clarified.

She took a moment to carefully turn the question over in her mind. She thought of Jazz and how the mech had more or less taken her in with open arms as if she were his own, no questions asked. She never felt as though she'd belonged anywhere or to anyone but he'd gone to great lengths to make her feel as if she did. She thought of the twins and and what a prominent part of her life they'd become. Sideswipe, all laidback and easy going, a notorious tease and a flirt who wore his spark on his sleeve, a lover of action but who was also perfectly content to spend all day snuggled up together in the berth if you'd let him. Sunstreaker, frequently aloof and surly, always carefully waxed and polished to perfection, he wore a seemingly impenetrable hard exterior that, should you be fortunate enough to breach it, hid a venerable protector and provider within. Two completely different halves of the same whole that complimented each other so perfectly that it was impossible to imagine one without the other.

A fond smile came to her lips. Was it okay to secretly admit to herself that she loved them? That they made her, dare she say it...happy? She hesitated. She'd never loved anyone before...she'd never had anyone to love. She'd never been loved, for that matter. These feelings were new and exciting and, honestly, a bit frightening. The selfish part of her demanded that she hold on to them with every fiber of her being and keep them close. The rest of her, the realistic part, knew that if they hadn't been in her plan that she definitely hadn't been a part of their's either. Given a choice, she believed they deserved a shot at something better than she was, even if it meant giving them up. Wasn't that part of loving someone? Wanting only the best for them?

"Yes," she answered slowly. "I would."

"What?" Ironhide looked surprised, "Why?"

Amy shrugged, "It'd be the right thing to do. For them," she added.

"The right thing for them..." He snorted, "What would a fleshie like you know about that anyway?"

Amy got the feeling she'd somehow offended the mech. She felt the need to apologize but wasn't really sure what for. "I'm...I'm sorry?"

"Like I said," Ironhide scowled down at her. "I don't agree with this slag but," he placed a hand over his chest plates. "I know a thing or two about spark bonds and it's not something you can just turn off whenever you want to."

"R-right," Amy stuttered. She'd obviously said something that struck a chord. "I know that much from talking to Ratchet. I-I didn't mean to imply..."

"What?" Hide glared, "That you'd trade the two of them off for something closer to home given the opportunity?"

"What are you even talking about?" Amy bristled, the first inklings of anger coloring her face. "I never said that!"

Ironhide harrumphed, "That's what it sounded like to me."

"Stop putting words in my mouth! You're twisting it all around!" She stomped her foot, "I'm having a shitty afternoon and then you come along with your bad attitude, stupid hypothetical questions and start getting all pissy when I give you a hypothetical answer! Just so you know, I wouldn't ever trade either of them for anything but that doesn't mean I don't want what's best for them, so you can take all your snide comments and condescending looks and shove them straight up your exhaust pipe!"

Ironhide recoiled slightly at the outburst.

Amy stopped her rant to take a breath, her chest heaving, "You don't like the fact that I have this spark thing with the twins. I agree with you that the whole situation is weird as all hell to the casual observer and you don't like that either! What is your goddamn problem?!"

The mech stared at the woman for a long moment before bursting out in loud, booming laughter. He doubled over with it, hands on his knees as if he'd just heard the funniest joke known to man. It seemed to go on forever, his entire frame shook with it as he swiped leaking fluid from his optics with the backs of his hands.

Amy's face reddened in anger, "What are you laughing at? This isn't funny!"

Her proclamation only made him laugh that much harder.

"Forget this," she huffed, planting her hands on her hips. Amy shook her head and checked her watch, "Laugh all you want. I don't have time for this bullshit. Thanks for the door but I need to go try to find out what the hell is going on around here..."

"Wait..." Ironhide wheezed in amusement, taking a couple of lumbering steps after the woman as she turned to take off down the hall.

Amy spun on her heel, glaring back at him with narrowed eyes, "What?"

"I didn't think you had it in you," he chuckled. "As far as humans go, I guess you're not so bad, after all."

Some of her anger left her at his statement and instead her brows furrowed in confusion, "Uh, okay...?"

"Look," Hide admitted, "I understand that none of you really have much of a choice in the matter. When something is meant to be, it just...is. Nothing you can really do about it but make the best of it, I guess." The mech continued, "As much as they grind my gears, you could do a lot worse than those two slaggers. They did what they thought was right and I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same in their position. Don't be too hard on 'em but don't let them push you around, either."

Amy chewed the words over for a moment, wondering at the mech's seemingly sudden change of spark. "Yeah..." she answered finally. "I...uh, thanks."

"You're welcome." A smug look came over Ironhide's features as he watched the woman slowly turn away again and continue on her way. He stood there a moment, analyzing the interaction before a confused look settled over his own features. Had he just defended _the twins_ to their _human_ partner? Had he, in not so many words, expressed a reluctant _acceptance_ of this relationship? Was he begrudgingly beginning to have the tiniest bit of _respect_ for the even tinier femme? What was his goddamn problem?

"Primus," he shuddered. "I need to go find something to shoot. This fragging planet is making me soft."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Jazz demanded, "What in the Pit did you two think you were doin'?"

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, "Handling our responsibilities."

"She doesn't deserve to be talked to or about like that," Sideswipe defended. "We did what needed to be done."

Jazz shook his head, "She doesn't deserve to be sittin' at home alone while you two are sittin' in the brig, either. Did either of ya think of that before ya went off after Mirage all half-cocked?"

Sunny snorted and crossed his arms over his chest plates.

"We're not in the brig," Sides reasoned.

"I know," Jazz looked at the pair pointedly. "Funny how that worked out for ya, huh?"

"Oh," Something clicked together in Sideswipe's processor. "That's..." he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and averted his gaze to the floor. "Thanks, Jazz..."

Sunstreaker made no comment but rumbled in agreement.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you. Look," Jazz vented and shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. "You know I love that little femme. After all the slag she's been dragged through, I get wantin' to protect her. Primus knows, I do...but you're not gonna solve anything by goin' an' gettin' yourselves in trouble. This ain't somethin' you can fight your way out of."

Sunstreaker demanded, "What do you expect us to do then? Stand there with a smile on our faces while that fragger talks scrap?"

"I expect you to act like you've got some slaggin' sense," Jazz barked back. "You're intelligent mechs. Start behavin' like it!"

"We were thinking," Sideswipe insisted. "She shouldn't have to put up with that slag. Not here." He shook his head, "Not with us around to prevent it."

"I'm not happy with Mirage's behavior either," Jazz admitted. "Beatin' the scrap outta him, though, it doesn't fix anything."

Sunny smirked, "I'd be willing to bet credits that he doesn't do it again."

"You know what I mean," Jazz leveled his gaze on the yellow front liner. "Don't pretend like it ain't eatin' ya up inside. I think about it, too."

Sunstreaker's gaze hardened, "Then you should understand why we did what we did."

"I understand that ya feel guilty," Jazz vented, seemingly lost in his own thoughts for a moment before continuing. "That ya feel that there's somethin' you could have done if you'd known." He shook his head, "Takin' your frustrations out on Mirage isn't gonna change what's already been done. You know that."

Sunny ran a hand over his face plates and turned away, "She was alone on this fragging dirt ball of a planet with those cogsuckers..."

"I know," Jazz hummed in solemn agreement.

"They hurt her." He growled, "They _did things_ to her..."

"I know," Jazz again agreed. "But, the fact of the matter is," he stressed, "we weren't here. There isn't anything any of us could have done to prevent it."

"And we'll have to live with that," Sideswipe quietly commented, a frown firmly embedded on his face. "For the rest of our lives."

Jazz asked, "Do ya hold her responsible for all the slag ya went through before ya got here?"

"No," Sides shook his head vehemently back and forth. "Why would we? None of it was her fault."

"Exactly," Jazz smirked at the mech as if he'd just made his point for him. "You're not responsible for anything that happened to her before ya met her...before you even knew she existed. She told me that herself."

"So...what?" Sunstreaker vented. "You want us to pretend it never happened?"

"No," Jazz disagreed. "What I want ya to do is realize that the two of you have an opportunity here to make tomorrow better than yesterday was. Don't throw it away bein' mad at the universe over things ya can't change. Forget about Mirage, that slagger is a lost cause anyway. Move on," he advised. "Be happy, for Primus' sake. Amy's...she's special, and I'm not just sayin' that 'cause she's mine and I'm biased. Any mech, or man for that matter, would be slaggin' lucky to have her. You two just happened to be fortunate enough to draw the winning number. Take advantage of that."

Sideswipe sighed, "I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right. And," he added, "Just so ya both know, I'm not bailin' ya out again so I suggest ya take that advice to spark. Next time, I'm leaving ya at Prowl's mercy. Is that understood?"

Sides voiced his comprehension, "Perfectly."

Jazz looked to the other twin, "Sunny?"

After a moment, Sunstreaker nodded, looking slightly more placated than he had when he'd first entered the office. "Yeah."

"Good." Jazz motioned toward the door. "Now get outta here and go take care of my scraplet. I don't wanna see either one of you for the rest of the weekend."

"You know," Sideswipe moved to follow his brother from the room but paused in the doorway, looking thoughtful as he turned back to Jazz for a moment. "You're getting pretty good at this whole creatorly advice thing."

"Thanks," Jazz grinned. "I'm still workin' on it."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe parted ways with his brother outside of the hangar. Sunny needed to relieve the watch before Prowl came looking for him and Sides just wanted to get home and try to set things right with Amy. He took off in the direction of home as if he were skating to win Olympic gold. He deftly avoided the obstacles in his way, both human and vehicular alike, covering the ground in record time. He approached the door to his and Sunny's room with a frown on his face and his spark in his throat. It was slightly open.

"Ames?" He called out, carefully sliding the door the rest of the way open. "Sweetspark?"

His optics surveyed the room's sparsely furnished interior. There wasn't really anywhere for her to hide. A feeling of apprehension settled over him and he cursed under his breath. She was gone.

"If you're looking for your human, she's gone. I let her out."

Sides turned to find Ironhide leaned up against the wall across the hall. His frown deepened, "Do you know where she went?"

The Weapons Specialist shrugged, "Pit if I know." He smirked, "but she didn't look happy. She left about twenty minutes ago."

"Right...thanks." Sideswipe scowled at the mech. He slammed the berth room door shut, wracking his processor trying to figure out where she may have gone. The barracks? The mess hall? Not wanting to get into another confrontation, he completely ignored the amused smirk on Hide's face and turned away intent on tracking the woman down and apologizing. He felt absolutely awful over the whole ordeal and prayed his Ames was in a forgiving mood.

"Slagger," he muttered as he headed back toward the exit intent on checking the two most obvious places she could have gone. On a whim, however, he veered off toward the rec/lounge area just on the off chance she may have wandered in that direction. As he neared the doorway, he could hear the chatter of the television playing inside and by the sound of it he deduced someone was in there watching a trashy daytime talk show.

" _What to do when they're all looking at you, cause you're the freak of the week, cause you're on the TV..._ "

Bumblebee.

Sideswipe couldn't help a snort of amusement. Of all the culturally interesting phenomena Earth had to offer, the poor youngling was hooked on that slag. It couldn't be healthy. He turned and was just about to go on about his way when a soft, feminine laugh caught his attention. He stopped in his tracks, pivoting back towards the door.

Amy. He'd know her laugh anywhere.

Sucking air deep into his intakes, he released it back out slowly. He mentally prepared himself for whatever venom she decided to fling his way. He'd messed up, he knew. He deserved every bit of anger she wanted to dish out...he and Sunny both did. Steeling himself, he slipped onto the room and couldn't help the look of fondness that spread across his face.

Bee had dragged what amounted to a metal shipping crate that had been modified into something resembling a chair over in front of the television. Amy had perched herself comfortably upon what amounted to the armrest. Bee had settled down into it with a cube of energon and seemed pleased to have company to help him watch a rebroadcast episode of _Maury._ The two of them appeared to be completely engrossed with whatever was happening on the screen and didn't seem to notice his entry into the room.

"I never watch this stuff," Amy admitted to the scout, her chin propped up in her hands as she sat crosslegged, staring at the television. "I can't understand why anyone would want to go on these shows and put their business out there like that for the whole world to see. It's like a train wreck."

Bee nodded enthusiastically, " _No I can't look away, no I can't look away..._ "

"Exactly." Amy chuckled softly, "I don't want to watch, but I can't help myself..."

The pair grew quiet as the next segment began.

"This is Krista's fourth time on our show," Maury announced. "She's desperately trying to figure out who fathered her sixteen month old daughter, Violet. So far, we've tested seven different men, none of whom have been a DNA match. She's back today with three more candidates with the hopes that one of them may be little Violet's daddy."

Bee's speaker's crackled to life, " _Hoes, hoes, hoes, in different area codes..._ "

"Nice," Amy snickered at the scout's antics as she stared at the television, only half listening as the woman explained why _one_ of this latest group of men _had_ to be her baby's daddy. "You know, if I remember high school biology correctly, there's only like five days out of the entire month that's it's even possible for a woman to get pregnant." She did some quick math in her head and made a sound of disgust. "That means she'd have to be sleeping with an average of, at the very least, like two different men a day that week for all these guys to even qualify."

Bee listened attentively to Amy's theory before recoiling at this revelation and shaking his head, " _Ooh...you so nasty!_ "

"I know, right?" Amy shook her head, "And I'd be willing to bet none of these three guys are the father, either. That kid looks nothing like any of them."

The scout nodded in agreement.

The pair were getting on so well and she seemed so content that Sideswipe hated to interrupt. However, his need to set things right and headed down the right track once more prompted him to move forward, "Ames?"

The pair started, Amy turning her head to find Sides standing just outside of her peripheral vision with a remorseful look on his face. "Sideswipe...?"

The mech found himself again in awe at the amazing elasticity of human expression. He wasn't sure if it was purely physiology or the fact that he felt so in tune with the woman, but he could clearly identify each and every emotion that flashed across her face in the span of a spark pulse. Surprise, curiosity, disappointment, and anger before finally settling on a mishmash of displeasure and relief. He offered her an apologetic smile and hoped for the best.

Amy blinked at him before turning back to Bee, "Sorry," she apologized. "I have to go."

The youngling made a sound of disappointment but nodded his head in understanding.

"Thanks for keeping me company," she continued, patting him gently on the arm as he helped her back to the floor. "Let me know how it turns out, okay? I'm invested in this drama," she teased. "I need to know."

Though the scout lacked a proper mouth, his optics did more than a thorough job of communicating his smile as he promised, " _Anything you need, you got it..._ "

Amy waved over her shoulder, bidding Bumblebee goodbye she strode toward the door, sparing Sideswipe a disgruntled glance as she moved passed him and back out into the hallway.

Sides vented, "Thanks, Bee." He frowned, looking after the direction the femme had gone. "Wish me luck."

Bumblebee flashed him a thumbs up, " _I love it when we fight just to make up...Funny how bad words turn to making love..._ "

"Here's hoping," Sideswipe responded before returning to the hall to find Amy standing leaned up against the opposite wall. She had her hands stuffed down into her pockets and was staring down at the toes of her shoes. He couldn't see her face but he could more than imagine the look of displeasure that would be burning in her eyes.

"I can't believe this," she murmured.

"Ames," Sideswipe started towards her. "Sweetspark...please don't be mad."

"Where's Sunstreaker," she asked, finally looking up and folding her arms defensively over her chest and glaring up at him, waiting for an answer. "It would save time if I could yell at the two of you together."

"He's on patrol," Sides admitted. "As punishment, Prowl doubled us up on the rotation. I relieve him at eight tonight, then we swap out tomorrow."

"Perfect," she muttered. "Just perfect."

"I'm sorry," he knelt down into a crouch to get closer to her level. "I truly am, Ames...I'm not sure what happened."

"Ratchet's spending the rest of his afternoon welding Mirage's face back together, is what happened," she grit out.

"I know, I know..." he shook his head and vented. "Can we please go back home and talk about this? Please? I can explain."

Amy stared at him for a long moment before nodding, "Fine."

Relief and trepidation in equal measures flooded Sideswipe's synapses as he followed the woman back in the direction of their quarters. Once outside the space, she waited patiently for him to open the door before stepping inside. He followed her in, shutting the door quietly behind them as he ran over in his processor what he wanted to say. Looking at her, he was again struck by how small she was in comparison and decided that this was not a conversation he wanted to have with him towering over her. He and Sunny may have been larger than her in stature, but they were definitely on equal footing where everything else was concerned.

His optics swept over the room, settling on the berth. He motioned for her to follow and gave an internal sigh of relief as she reluctantly allowed him to lift her up and settle her on the edge with her legs hanging over the side. He dropped to his knees in front of her and settled back onto his wheels. Like this, they were nearly eye to optic. He placed a hand on the berth in either side of her...to keep her from falling, he told himself.

"Ames," he started, "I'm so, so sorry. I know we messed up...I messed up."

Amy shook her head, "Why did this happen? How did this happen?"

Sides grimaced, "It's...complicated."

"Complicated?" Amy raised a brow, "Seriously?"

"Look," Sideswipe shuttered his optics and bent forward, burying his face in her lap. He moved his arms to wrap around her, hugging her close. "I'm sorry," he again apologized, his voice muffled against the fabric of her pants. "I know we were wrong but...we really were thinking of you. I swear we were."

"Well, way to show it," Amy huffed. "Seeing Mirage burst into the med bay bleeding profusely from his face really made my day. Thanks for that."

Sides cringed, pulling back to look at her, "I know it looks bad but you weren't there, you didn't hear what he said about you..."

"I don't care what he said," she argued. "It can't be any worse than anything hundreds of other people have already said about me. What you two did was entirely uncalled for!"

"We just wanted to protect you," the mech insisted. "What good are we if we can't take care of the one person in the universe that actually means something to us?"

Amy made a sound of frustration, "I don't need protecting! I certainly don't need a couple guys going around beating people up just because they said something mean about me!"

"I know you don't, but its more than that," he admitted. "It's like...like we're playing catch up. With everything that we've all been through...if we can stop anything else from hurting you, we owe you that much."

Amy sighed, feeling her anger dissipate somewhat and a twinge of affection fill its place. "Sideswipe...you two don't owe me anything. Yeah, bad things happen but none of it is your fault. That's just how it goes. It definitely isn't a reason to go out and physically assault someone, especially on my account."

We'll do better," he promised. "Please, sweetspark...this is important to us. It's important to me, having you here like this. I know Sunny feels the same even if he doesn't say it. Despite how slagging crazy this has all been, you were willing to give us a chance. No one's ever done that for us before. I don't want this one thing to mess everything up."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're all in the same boat as far as that goes." Amy took note of his tense expression and lifted her hand to press her palm against the side of his face in a soothing gesture. "What in the world am I going to do with you?"

"Forgive me," he suggested, giving her a hopeful grin. "Then let me try to make it up to you?"

Amy shook her head in disbelief, "Why are you so..."

"Handsome?" He offered, his grin widening, "Irresistibly charming?"

Amy raised a brow, "I was going to ask why you're so hard to stay mad at, but," she shrugged, "I suppose those are also valid questions."

"Life's great mysteries," he gently teased. "I guess you'll have to stick around to find out."

"Yeah," she replied, the first hint of a smile returning to her face. "I guess so."

Sideswipe gazed at her for a long moment, his spark thrumming happily at her closeness. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt content. He also felt strangely compelled. He shifted nervously, "Ames...can I tell you something?"

Amy focused her full attention on him once again, her smile fading slightly.

Sides spoke quickly before the mood could deteriorate. "It's not anything bad," he promised. "At least, I don't think so. I just...don't want you to freak out."

The corners of her mouth turned down and she sat up straighter. She placed her hand on top of his where it rested on the berth next to her. "I won't, I promise. You can tell me anything. What is it?"

"You're a beautiful person," he slowly began, "and I'm not sure what Sunny and I could have possibly done right to deserve even knowing you, let alone share our sparks with you..." he trailed off.

Amy waited patiently for him to continue, squeezing his finger in encouragement.

"I wanted to tell you that," he sucked air down deep into his intakes and let it out slowly. "I wanted to tell you that I love you. I've felt like this for a while now and...I just...can't hold it in any longer. I'm not sure what you think of it or want to do with it but, there it is. I love you, Ames."

Amy's eyes widened in both shock and surprise, "Sideswipe...I-I'm not sure what to say. No one's ever said anything like that to me before..."

The mech shook his head, looking down and away from her, "You don't have to say anything back, sweetspark. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything like that, or think that I'm just saying it to placate you because we had a fight. I just...I wanted you to know. So," he gave a self-deprecating laugh, "now you do..."

She felt her heart swell with affection and reached for him, her hands moving to glide over the smooth planes of his face. She watched his optics shutter closed under the the sensation of soft skin sliding against polished metal and it brought a smile of adoration to her lips. She was bold by no means but felt compelled to reciprocate. After all, he'd been brave enough to expose his feelings to her, risking rejection. She owed him that same courtesy, did she not? Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

Sideswipe gave a jolt of surprise before relaxing into the action and doing his best best to return her show of affection. One of his hands moved to pet her hair while the other went to her back and drew her closer. A pleased hum escaped his vocalizer and he happily took her up on the invitation she extended to deepen the kiss by carefully meeting her tongue with his glossa. Somehow, it just worked. This was exactly what he wanted. Her here with him, with the both of them. Together. Always.

After a long moment, Amy pulled away slightly, the ever-present electricity swirling in her chest had intensified, leaving her near breathless. It wasn't frightening this time, however. She found it almost exhilarating. She could taste the odd sweetness of his kiss on her lips and couldn't help but smile when Sideswipe cracked his optics open to gaze at her with a mix of curiosity and cautious optimism.

"Sweetspark?" He asked uncertainly, "Is that...are you...?"

Amy pressed her fingers to his mouth, silencing him. She swallowed hard, steeling her resolve. If he did it, she reasoned, so could she. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Sides blinked at her, as if it took a moment for him to process what she'd said. Once he had, however, a look of what can only be explained as unbridled joy spread across his face plates. "Really?" He grinned, "Do you really mean that?"

"Really," she smiled back. "I really do."

"Oh, sweetspark," he dove back in, carefully maneuvering to kiss her once more. "Primus, I love you. Say it again."

"I love you," she stated with a bit more confidence. She couldn't believe how good it felt to have it out in the open. The words rolled off her tongue much easier than she thought they would and she meant every word, "I love you..."

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sunstreaker hated patrol. He hated having to slog through the filthiest parts of the island in order to ensure a secure perimeter. It always left him feeling gritty and dirty, not to mention in a foul mood. He normally looked forward to the end of his shift, to the opportunity to hit the wash racks and vent to his brother. The idea of returning to their quarters this evening, however, filled him with a sense of trepidation he couldn't ever remember feeling before. He tried to rationalize that since Sideswipe hadn't commed him in a panic that there was nothing to fear. That thought further led him to scoff at himself that he'd be afraid of a small, female organic in the first place.

He'd headed straight to the wash racks to spray off the remnants of duty. He took less time than normal to buff himself dry but chalked it up to the fact that he needed to hurry as his brother was waiting for him to take his place on patrol. He told himself that it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to bury the events of the day so that they and the Squishie could move on with their lives. It was a simple enough prospect really.

Giving himself a quick once over to ensure he hadn't overlooked any water spots, he squared his shoulders and let himself into the berth room he and his brother, and now the Squishie, shared. Upon surveying the space, he felt some of his tension dissipate. Sideswipe and Amy were settled together atop the berth. She was snuggled close in to his side as the pair of them watched something Sides had pulled up on a data pad. He reasoned that things couldn't be too bad if they were looking so cozy. Maybe he could just forget about the whole thing and pretend nothing happened.

"Hey," Sides greeted, looking up from the screen. "Sunny's home!"

"Yeah, finally," he muttered, his optics going to the femme who remained somewhat passive to his presence.

Sideswipe had given the woman a gentle squeeze before carefully extricating himself from the berth. He'd approached his brother with his normal easygoing grin to lean against the wall while Sunny emptied his subspace compartments. "Anything going on I need to know about before heading out?"

"Nah," Sunstreaker denied. "Same old boring slag as usual." He looked back to the berth to find that Amy had busied herself studying the data pad. "What about you? Are we good here?"

"Well..." Sides grin widened. "Yes and no."

Sunstreaker looked perplexed, "The frag is that supposed to mean?"

Sideswipe's optics were bright and he took on an almost dreamy expression, "I need to talk to you later. It's important but I don't want to talk about it on comm."

Right," Sunny muttered. "I'm sure it is."

"That's the good news," his brother assured.

Sunstreaker huffed in irritation, "And the bad?"

"Just so you know," Sideswipe had leaned in closer and warned him in a hushed tone as he began gathering his own gear in preparation to leave and take over the patrol. "I did my best but...she was pretty upset."

Sunstreaker heaved an exasperated sigh, "Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," his twin had unhelpfully replied as he'd stowed his gear. "Just..." he discretely motioned toward the woman who still sat curled up on the berth, effectively ignoring the pair of them. "Kiss and make up. Please..."

"Sure," Sunny grumbled as he watched his brother turn and head back toward the berth to bid Amy farewell. "I'll do that."

"Alright, Ames," Sides had cheerfully chirped as he bent down next to where the woman sat. "I have to go."

She'd frowned, pushing the data pad to the side and turning to look at him. "Already?"

"Unfortunately," he'd vented. "But," he grinned, "I'll be here when you wake up in the morning and Sunny'll keep you company till then."

Sunstreaker had watched as Amy had nodded and cut her eyes over in his direction. He hadn't missed the way they'd slightly narrowed as if the idea of having him as company was somehow distasteful. He had his work cut out for him, apparently.

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed. "Just...be careful out there and please stay out of trouble."

"I will," Sides assured, leaning in to press his brow to her's in a show of affection. "I promise."

She drew back slightly and planted a kiss right between his optics which elicited a sound of contentment from deep within his chest. "See you soon."

"Count on it," he smiled brightly at her before finally pulling away. "Alright, kids,' he started as a means to bid them both farewell as he headed towards the door, clapping Sunny on the back as he passed. "Have a good night, behave yourselves, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Night," Sunny responded, turning his attention to Amy as the door closed silently behind behind his brother. "Squishie," he finally greeted. "How was your day?"

Her look hardened, "Better than Mirage's, apparently. How do you think it was?"

Sunstreaker vented heavily, "I didn't come home to argue with you. I've spent all fragging day driving around this Primus forsaken island and I'm tired."

She challenged, "And whose fault is that?"

And so it went.

It was clear that the woman wanted to talk about the trouble he and Sideswipe had gotten into. Sunstreaker's refusal to even acknowledge anything was wrong seemed to send her deeper into her anger. Ignoring it and hoping it goes away, apparently, wasn't the best strategy to pursue when it came to calming an upset femme as he'd soon learned. He almost wished he'd pulled Sides aside and asked what he'd done to make her behave so affectionately. He certainly wouldn't have turned down a bit of closeness if she offered. After the day he'd had, he could've used some.

As it was, however, the evening devolved quickly into stilted, tense conversation—if one could even call the short, one word answers she'd give to his questions a conversation. It came to the point that she didn't want to talk to him at all. She didn't want to finish the cheesy, old martial arts film she and Sideswipe had been watching. She wasn't hungry. She didn't want to go to the rec room. Sunstreaker found himself at a complete loss and so it came as a momentous relief when she announced she was tired and wanted to go to sleep. He hoped, perhaps in vain, that that would be the end of it and tomorrow would begin anew.

He'd found himself lying in the dark, flat on his back, and staring up at the pitted ceiling. His processor whirred along at a rapid fire pace. It was impossible to relax. His "goodnight" had gone unanswered. His berth mate remained completely quiet and still, almost unnaturally so. The silence was absolutely deafening. Sunstreaker couldn't take it anymore. There was no way he could recharge like this.

Venting, he rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. In the dim light of the berth room, he could clearly see the woman curled in on herself. She'd migrated towards Sideswipe's vacant spot, facing away from him with the blankets pooled haphazardly around her waist. He couldn't see her face to know whether or not her eyes were open but he knew without a doubt that she was just as wide awake as he was. Her breathing gave her away.

"Squishie," he rumbled in a near exasperated tone, "what are you doing over there?"

The sudden sound of the mech's voice in the quiet dark made her jump. She answered him softly, "Sleeping."

Sunny frowned. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, her continued discontent or her obvious attempt to put space between them. He'd never really cared one way or the other what a femme thought of him before, whether they were pissed off at him or not, but, as he constantly reminded himself, Amy was a special case. She wasn't just _any_ femme, she was _their_ femme. His processor turned over as he thought of ways to get back into her good graces. A roguish grin lifted the corner of his mouth as he remembered his brother's sage words of wisdom. _Kiss and make up._

That, he could definitely do.

He made a sound of amusement, "You're a terrible liar."

Before she had a chance to protest his accusation, Amy was being pulled back across the berth by a strong, metallic hand wrapped around her hip. She slid easily across the smooth surface, only coming to a stop upon encountering a solid metal chest. The hand on her hip, wrapped around her middle, pressing her snuggly into the mass of mech behind her. Amy shivered, "What are you doing?"

"You're mad at me." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement of fact. Sunstreaker nuzzled his face plates into the woman's hair, enjoying the strange, alien softness of it as he breathed in the scent of her. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

Amy shook her head even as she closed her eyes, unable to help but enjoy the the comforting warmth that radiated from him. She tried to hold on to her anger and disappointment but she was finding that it was difficult to stay mad at either one of them for too long when they were this close. "Not if you don't really mean it."

"I mean it," Sunstreaker assured, enjoying the slight hitch in her breath as his attentions shifted from the softness of her hair to the smoothness of her neck. The clothes she wore to sleep were much more loose and stretchy than the uniforms she donned while on duty and so it was much easier for him to nose the fabric aside in order to press his lip plates to her shoulder for an apologetic kiss. "I am sorry. Not about Mirage," he clarified, murmuring against her skin. "He deserved it. But I am sorry for upsetting you. That was never my intention."

Amy wiggled free of his grasp and rolled to face him, her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. "So your intention was what? To knock Mirage silly just for the hell of it?"

"Not entirely," Sunny chuckled softly. "I already told you, I'm not just going to stand there while some pompous piece of scrap insults you. I'm not that kind of mech."

"You didn't have to hit him," she reasoned. "It wasn't that serious."

"It was to me," he insisted. He gently brushed away some of the hair that had fallen over her forehead. "I meant what I said...you matter. A lot. To the both of us. If you won't stick up for yourself, we will. If that means putting some rich snob back in his place, then so be it."

Disbelief in the form of a small puff of air escaped from between Amy's lips. She shook her head. "While I appreciate the thought, the last thing I need is for you to go around punching people in the face on my behalf," she reiterated again. "It doesn't help me in the slightest and it was completely uncalled for. I was seriously worried..."

Sunstreaker snorted, "I told you not to worry about Mirage. He did it to himself."

"Not about him," Amy denied. "I was worried about you and Sideswipe." Unthinking, she pressed her hand against his chest plates, feeling the warm vibration of the spark within. "I didn't know what was going on, where you were, or what was going to happen to you. All I could do was sit here and wonder. I couldn't even get out of here to see what was going on. It's the most helpless I've felt in while." She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, "I hate feeling that way."

It clicked in Sunstreaker's mind then. While they had gone off to right a perceived wrong against her, she'd been trapped in this room...alone. She'd not even been given the courtesy of knowing where they'd gone, let alone what they planned on doing. She'd been left to imagine the worst. They'd inadvertently caused her grief...the exact opposite of what they'd wanted. He frowned, gently pressing her back into the berth until she lay flat on her back. He needed to show her that wasn't what they'd wanted—not what he'd wanted. He needed to make it up to her.

"Bright spark," he murmured, moving over her and pressing his forehead to her's. It was so fragging weird. She was much, much too small and too soft in comparison to himself. It was definitely not what he was used to. He wasn't even sure if it was something he could get used to but he didn't even care any more. It wasn't the package that was important, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time, it was the contents. He was a resourceful mech. He'd make it work one way or another. The memory of the first time he'd kissed her prompted him to want to do it again. Mindful of their difference in size, he managed to maneuver his lip plates to press upon their human equivalent.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips, for the first time truly meaning it.

Amy was surprised at the sudden show of affection and sincerity in his voice. Her breath quickened and her heart took on a galloping rhythm. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she pressed them against his chest plates feeling the change in the resonance and tempo from before. She swallowed the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, managing a softly spoken, "It's...it's okay..."

"No, it's not," Sunstreaker huskily whispered back, pressing another kiss to her lips before sliding his mouth to her jaw, a larger and more easily acquired target that didn't require as much restraint and finesse on his part to pay proper attention. He nipped at the skin there, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make the femme's breath hitch, before soothing the area with a gentle swipe of his glossa. "You should never feel that way...not where we're concerned."

"So..." Amy struggled to string together a coherent thought as the mech slowly continued his path down the side of her neck to her exposed shoulder, but she eventually found her voice. "You won't do it again?"

Sunstreaker froze and lifted his head. He studied the woman for a moment before a slight smirk appeared on his lip plates. She wasn't going to just let it go. She was going to make him work for it. Then again, he did enjoy a challenge. A low chuckle rumbled out from somewhere deep in his chest, "Stubborn femme with a one-track mind..."

Amy's brows furrowed. "Hey-"

He silenced her impending protest by dipping his head back down and pressing his lips back to her's. It had the desired effect. Her words died in her throat, turning into a surprised gasp instead. He seized the opportunity to carefully probe her mouth with the tip of his glossa. Though he lamented the fact that their difference in size made it impossible for him to kiss her as he wished, it was no less pleasant and he quickly found himself lost in the experience.

He could feel her small, slender fingers scrabble against his plating, searching for something to hold on to. She managed to get a grip in the area where his clavicles would have been had he been human. Her fingers sank perfectly into the narrow groove in his armor, accidentally brushing against sensors hidden beneath his plates and causing a shudder to move through his frame. It had been much too long since he'd been touched in a way that didn't involve some form of violence and the tentative gentleness of the gesture caused him to groan in appreciation.

A small corner of his processor thought it a shame that his brother was on duty and missing out but he quickly squashed the notion. Instead, he focused on utilizing what little time he did have to himself in the most efficient manner possible. His own fingers sought out the gap in her clothing where her shirt had ridden slightly up her abdomen and slipped beneath the fabric to graze along her waist and stomach.

"So soft," he murmured, slipping down to more closely examine the newly exposed skin with his mouth and glossa. "You're so warm..."

"S-Sunstreaker..." Amy couldn't help but arch into the sensation. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips, even as her heart felt as though it was trying to beat its way right out of her chest. "You're trying to change the subject..."

"No, I'm trying to apologize, if you'll let me," the mech pressed a chaste kiss to the skin right above her belly button—yet another strange, very human attribute. "I can't promise that I won't fight for you because I will...that's not negotiable." He nuzzled against her, marveling at how she molded perfectly against him. "I can promise that I'll never intentionally hurt you. That's the best I can do. Take it or leave it."

"I...uh..." Amy stuttered. A strange, electrical sensation that had begun subtly coursing through her body and made it hard to think. Her nerves seemed to hum as if she were jacked into some sort of electrical current. It was hard to put the feeling into words. The closest thing she could liken it to was a buildup of static electricity without the zap of release. It was weird, but certainly not unenjoyable. The small part of her brain still capable of focusing on issues outside of physical sensation realized this was the closest thing she would get to a concession from the mech in regards to the topic at hand. She swallowed hard and softly replied, "I'll take it."

Sunstreaker raised his head to look at her, his optics glowing bright in the dark room, "Forgiven?"

"Yes," she confirmed, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly at the hopeful look on his face. "Forgiven."

"Thank Primus..." an almost devilish grin split his features as he moved back up the berth to maneuver his lip plates against her mouth once again. "...and thank you."

Amy bit her lip, holding in a breathy moan as the mech slipped back down her body and dived happily back into what he'd been doing. Her navel was quite fascinating, apparently. It was impressive, really, a tiny corner of her brain acknowledged—the care and control he exercised. He hovered carefully, not close enough to crush or intimidate, but enough so to create a feeling of intimacy. Despite his obvious enthusiasm for this activity, he seemed remain mindful of their differences, adjusting and modifying his actions as needed and with spectacular results. She shivered. He was so very good at this...it almost made her wonder whether or not he'd had any previous experience with humans. Given his very vocal distaste for anything organic, however, she highly doubted that was the case. Still, it didn't stop her from wondering where he was pulling his knowledge from as he worked his way back up her torso discovering and proceeding to thoroughly explore the sensitive skin at the hollow of her throat.

As much as she was enjoying his attentions, she felt like a fish out of water. She had limited experience when it came to matters of intimacy, and much of it wasn't good. She knew she was safe, though, and that was enough to keep bad memories and feelings at bay. It did little, however, to quell the notion that she was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine in her current position. Though she probably could have passably fumbled her way through such an encounter with another human being, she was completely lost concerning what Sunstreaker expected from her. Though he voiced no complaint, she was fairly certain he didn't expect her to just lie there completely stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Is something wrong?" He raised his head, looking down on her now flushed face and lifted a brow plate in question as if he'd somehow sensed her dilemma, "Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?"

"I...no." Amy shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "This is...it...it's kind of one sided...I don't have the slightest clue what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Is that all?" Sunstreaker smirked at her and bent to press a kiss to her brow. "Let me show you. Give me your hand."

Amy nodded, releasing the death grip she'd had on his chest armor and pressed her left hand into his much, much larger one. She watched with wide, curious eyes as he moved it where he wanted it.

"Here," he guided her hand to the junction of his neck and shoulder. He pressed her fingers into a gap in his armor plating. "Feel that?"

Amy moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Her heart pounded and she could have sworn there was an electrical storm brewing in her chest. She flexed her fingers and felt them skim over the velvety smooth metal hidden beneath the yellow armor. She also brushed against what felt like some kind of hose or a very thick wire. Without seeing it, she couldn't be sure. She felt Sunstreaker shudder above her as her fingertips skimmed over it once more. "This?"

He nodded in confirmation. "Grab it and pull."

She frowned even as her fingers closed around it. "What is it?"

"External tactile sensors," the mech swallowed a groan as the femme gave the bundle of filaments an experimental squeeze. "They transmit sensation from our armor...easy to access near the joints and armor seams. Depending on the type of stimulation, that can either be a really good thing or a really bad thing."

"Oh..." Amy worried her bottom lip between her teeth even as a knot of curious excitement settled into the pit of her belly. It was completely surreal, having one and a half tons of of giant, metal alien looming over you, instructing you on the sensitive parts of their anatomy. Tentatively, she gave a careful tug. "Like this?"

Almost instantaneously, the mech went rigid above her before relaxing down, a sound like a deep, throaty purr tumbled from him. His optics closed and he pressed his forehead to her's while fumbling for her other hand. "Here," he instructed, guiding her fingers beneath his chest plating, dangerously close to his spark chamber. "Touch me here."

Fascinated, Amy did as he asked. Curling her fingers, she used her blunt nails and fingertips to scratch along the front of what felt like a solid, heavy piece of impossibly smooth metal. She wasn't sure what it was but she could strongly feel the thrum of his spark right beneath her touch and just beyond her reach. Initially, it made her fingers tingle but she could feel the odd static slowly creep up her hand, beyond her wrist, into her arm, and eventually settle into her chest. The sensation reminded of when she'd been shocked, first by Sideswipe and then by Sunstreaker. Unlike those times, however, there wasn't any pain or fear. It was...almost comforting and, she embarrassedly admitted to herself, rather arousing.

"Right there," he sighed into her neck, basking in the soft touch. "Again, just like that..."

Encouraged by his reaction, she did as he requested. Timidly, she asked, "This...feels good?"

He chuckled, a sound she felt more than heard. "You have no idea."

"I think I do," she quietly murmured to herself. Mustering her courage, she slid her left hand from where it still rested within the seam of his shoulder to slip it beneath his chest plating next to her right. She pressed her palms against the metal, feeling that same staticky sensation creep up her left side, as well. It became less a feeling of electricity and more of a subtle vibration she could feel all the way down to her bones. It made her shiver and try to press closer to the mech above her.

She let her hands wander, smoothing over the surface of the object buried deep inside his chest, enjoying the sounds of enjoyment he made and the way he pressed back into her questing fingers. She mapped the shape with her fingertips, tracing the edges and mentally committing its geometry to memory. The friction of her skin moving over the cube-shaped object seemed to intensify the the sensations flowing through her. She'd never felt anything like it in her life and she couldn't contain the soft gasp of pleasure that slipped from between her lips as a particularly strong jolt of energy moved through her.

"Keep doing that," Sunstreaker encouraged with a ragged voice. One of his hands had fisted itself in her hair, crushing the silky strands between his fingers, the other kept him propped safely over her. "Don't stop."

Amy could only nod, she didn't trust herself to speak. She had no intention of stopping, not now. She needed something. To get closer to whatever this was that was happening. The need was almost obsessive in its intensity. It was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Almost as if it had read her mind, the feeling swelled until that particular vibratory frequency was the only thing she was aware of. It was everywhere. It was all around her. It was inside of her...or maybe she was inside it. She couldn't tell anymore. It was familiar, yet strange. Like finally getting to see up close something she'd only been able to gaze at from afar.

There was a push/pull feeling, almost the same as one would experience trying to force two repelling magnets together, but then there seemed to be a polarity shift and everything suddenly snapped together with enough force that it drove the breath from her lungs. She was beyond herself, she realized with a start. That weird feeling of being detached from her body she'd been experiencing intermittently returned with a vengeance. Her physical self remained perfectly aware of what was happening but felt far, far away. Whatever this was, it transcended the body. This energy was alive, she realized. It was a living, intelligent, feeling entity and she could feel its essence entangled completely with her own in a manner that felt much too intimate and personal to even be possible.

"Primus," Sunstreaker murmured, opening his optics to gaze down on the woman, a look of wonderment on his face. His expression suggested that he was, at the very least, experiencing something similar. "Tell me you feel that."

"Y-yes, I do..." Amy stuttered and blinked up at him, her entire body now awash in the peculiar, yet pleasurable sensation. Voice trembling, she asked, "What...what is that?"

"Us, bright spark," he rumbled, his gaze burning back into her own. "That's us..."

 **End of Chapter 43**

 **Sunny maybe a little starved for affection underneath it all? I dunno... What do you think?**


	44. Chapter 44

**Finding Home**

 **Chapter 44**

 **By Voodoo Queen**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Thank you all so much for taking time out of your day to read my story. I do sincerely appreciate it and hope I'm able to entertain you while you're here. Sorry for the delay. I found out recently that the dog I've had for 13 years had cancer and we ended up having to have her put to sleep so I really haven't felt much like doing anything. I'm just starting to get back in my groove. Keeping busy helps and I really wanted to finish this chapter up and get it out to you guys. It's been sitting in a folder about 3/4 of the way done for over a month. Just a heads up, there is some mild to moderate sexual content/language in this chapter (including, but not limited to Sideswipe dealing with missing out on all the fun at home)—nothing graphic, just people who care deeply about each other trying to figure out how the hell this stuff is supposed to work under their unique circumstances. And to those worried about Sides getting the short end of the stick...fear not! He's having a great time, as you'll see! He is a twin, after all.**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who added this story to their likes and faves. I'm happy you're here! Special thanks to my always-wonderful reviewers: Leonixon, shelby20125, bonnieandjangolove, all the 'Guests', monkeybaby, maria-ioanna984, WantFanFics, jellybeanz513, Malkah5967, KayleeChiara, ElleGirl19, 'Anonymous', Oddity Empress, jgoss, the everchanging, aquarius89, Bsmiles123, Cinematronix, poppycakes, skylar shepard, ladybug1995, .Princess, shizzlethis1, Assassin In Black 1783, Silver Wolf Queen.**

 **Sorry if I missed anyone.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.**

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Sideswipe stood anxiously outside of the main hangar waiting eagerly for his relief to show up. It had been long night to say the very least and all he wanted to do was to go home. He hadn't wanted to leave Amy the previous evening, especially not after they'd openly expressed their feelings for one another. He could hardly believe their turn of good fortune where she was concerned. After what felt like a lifetime of struggle and doing without, things seemed to finally be swinging their way and he could barely wait to hold her, hear those words spoken between them once again, and show her just how irrevocably in love with her he really was. That, however, would take time...time he hadn't had the night before with the prospect of an overnight patrol hanging over his head. He'd need to rectify that and soon.

Speaking of the previous night, he'd worried over leaving Amy alone with Sunny in her upset state. Although he loved his brother dearly, Sunstreaker wasn't the most diplomatic of mechs. She'd refused to accept an apology from him on Sunny's behalf so the mech would, unfortunately, be on his own in that regard. Though he'd made his peace with the femme with wonderful results, he knew how stubborn his brother could be when he believed he was in the right. He hoped Sunny could put pride aside, at least this one time, and apologize to her himself so that the three of them could move on with their lives and, as Jazz had so wisely advised, be happy. His concern had been unwarranted, it seemed. From what he could decipher from the bond he shared with his brother, after quite a bit of initial frustration, Sunny and Amy had ended up having an extremely pleasant evening together, much to his relief.

He'd been on the far side of the island when it had happened, that first little ripple of pleasure that his brother had allowed to slip through. His initial reaction had been a profound satisfaction that Sunny had managed to set things right again. All was not lost over this one incident. They were going to be okay. Deciding the bit of good news was his cue to take an impromptu break, he'd pulled over to the side of the road and transformed back into his bipedal mode. He took the opportunity to stretch as he wandered down toward the beach to skate leisurely along the coast line, enjoying the sound of crashing waves and happily sharing in his brother's success, albeit vicariously.

"Thank you, Sunny." He grinned to himself, "I knew you'd figure something out."

As he continued on, instead of subsiding, the feeling only grew stronger which he took to be an even greater sign that things back home were progressing pleasantly in a positive direction, for which he was extremely thankful. He would have been lying if he said that his curiosity wasn't absolutely killing him, though. He was catching the 'overflow', as they called it, of what his brother was feeling and it was beginning to affect his own spark, causing its pulse to quicken and a pang of longing to roll through his chest. A deep urge to be closer to whatever was transpiring filled him and he wished to be able to open up to his brother and sink into the sensations he was feeling fully but he resisted the urge. They were twins, yes, and more often than not did practically everything together, but they each still respected the other's right to privacy...to indulge in the occasional personal moment without having to worry about the whereabouts and feelings of the other. Whatever this was, it was between Amy and Sunny and he'd do his best to respect their time together just as he knew his brother would do for him.

Easier said than done.

It was obvious to Sides that Sunstreaker was attempting and failing to contain and compartmentalize what he was experiencing so as not to be distracting. It was also obvious the very moment his brother finally said "frag it" and completely gave up trying. The feeling swelled suddenly causing Sideswipe to stumble, his wheels slipping in the loose sand. A ragged moan escaped his vocalizer and he was forced to plop his aft down to sit on the beach when it became apparent that he couldn't concentrate on the sensations sweeping through into his spark and keeping himself upright and mobile at the same time. He was completely transfixed and though his intention had been to allow Amy and his brother time alone to sort out their differences without interruption or interference, he felt himself drawn in beyond his ability to control. With an almost palpable sense of expectation and exhilaration, he sought Sunstreaker through the bond they shared in order to more fully immerse himself in what was happening.

He sent an impression of apology to his twin which was readily accepted and met with an invitation he couldn't possibly refuse. If he couldn't be there physically, this was the next best thing and, though the pleasurable sensations were technically only secondhand impressions as interpreted by his brother, if he closed his optics and concentrated hard enough he could almost fool his own sensory grid into believing he was experiencing them for himself—a trick they'd both learned long ago how to exploit to their benefit. The soft, exploratory touches were a pleasing distraction from the tedious boredom of patrol and he focused intently on them, a shiver going through him as the ghostly fingers sought out the sensitive, hidden places beneath his/Sunny's armor. The sensations were so crisp and clear in his processor that he may as well have been in the room with them.

He could distinctly feel and perfectly understand his brother's need for touch...something soft and soothing after more brutality and hurt than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. It had very little to do with sexual gratification or simple stress relief. It was a need for a real connection with another living soul. He, too, had that same yearning. They'd spent vorns alone, just the two of them. Though they'd never lacked for company, nothing ever really clicked with them. They may have been able to satisfy their physical needs but no one had ever really been able to fill that most important niche between them in any meaningful way. It was a void that neither had cared to acknowledge until just recently. It had been, in its own strange way, a rather lonely existence despite being surrounded by people. Now that they'd found Amy, he couldn't even imagine going back to the way things had been before.

"Please..." Sideswipe whispered into the night air, echoing his brother's thoughts. His hands fisted in the sand, crushing the tiny grains between his fingers. His vents seized up as he waited in anticipation, every sense he possessed fully focused on the bond he shared with Sunstreaker as he completely committed himself to the experience. "Please, sweetspark," he begged, as if the woman could somehow hear him, his pleas mingling with his brother's.

He waited a spark pulse, then two, to be rewarded with the phantom sensation of small, delicate hands stroking along the front of his spark chamber. The surge of perceived tactile stimulation sent him sprawling backwards into the sand. His own hands pressing into chest plates as if he could somehow hold the invisible hands in place beneath them. He could feel his internal temperature rising as the burn of electrostatic energy began to build within him more quickly than he'd ever experienced. That wasn't at the forefront of his focus, however. He could feel a strange magnetic pulling sensation, something he'd never felt before and, honestly, at that point he wasn't sure if it were him or Sunny that was truly experiencing it. Regardless, he surrendered himself to it, silently encouraging his brother to follow.

He soon became lost in it, aware even through the haze of the experience that his brother felt very much the same. They were forged from the same spark and he knew Sunny's essence as intimately as he knew his own and would recognize it anywhere. It felt as though they'd been drawn together in a peculiar, though not unpleasant, swirl of energy. It wasn't sexual, simply an acknowledgment that they were indeed two halves of the same whole at the very base of their existence and belonged together. A pair. A unit. An unbreakable set. There was something else, however. Something that drew his attention so sharply that he briefly forgot Sunny was 'there' at all. That is, until he felt his brother's own mix of confusion and wonder mingling with his own.

There was a completely separate third presence. He couldn't 'see' it, not the same way he could 'see' Sunny, but he could certainly sense it. It felt bright, brighter than anything he'd ever glimpsed with his optics. Yet, at the same time, it was indistinct and intangible, unlike his and Sunny's own defined selves in this strange, almost ethereal plane—together but separate. It was wispy, seeming to swirl uncertainty between them as if it couldn't decide what it was supposed to do now that it was there with them. He tried his best to focus on it, to try to define it in some recognizable way.

Despite its ambiguous, elusive nature, the presence radiated a curious, welcoming warmth. He gravitated towards it, wanting to be closer before it flitted away once more. It was soft, he vaguely realized. Feminine. Full of acceptance. Full of untapped love and affection.

 _Amy_.

The recognition seemed to hit both he and Sunny at the same time. With it, came a state of profound bliss unmatched in his experience. There was a feeling of rightness, of _wholeness,_ that neither he nor Sunny had every believed themselves worthy of. Everything else ceased to exist. Time lost all meaning. He couldn't imagine anything ever feeling better than how he felt right then. He could have stayed in that single moment forever and been happy.

Then, as suddenly as the encounter began, it abruptly ended leaving him feeling bereft. He'd been suddenly thrust back into his own consciousness, into his own body to find himself teetering dangerously on the brink of overload. Warnings flashed before his optics and he'd quickly shut down his HUD. His frame trembled almost uncontrollably as he tried to seize control of his faculties. A small corner of his processor reminded him that he was on duty and still had several long hours stretching out ahead of him and that there was no way he could patrol like this. He quickly turned his options over. A quick scan of his surroundings assured him that he was very much alone. No prying human eyes to witness what he was about to do.

It was possible to manipulate one's own spark core force field but, it wasn't something he'd ever really done before. It required a certain subtlety and he normally didn't have the patience when there were much easier methods to 'blow a charge' at his disposal should he find himself alone and feeling desperate. At that moment, however, all he could think about was how wonderful those small fingers had felt sliding beneath his/Sunny's armor and how he would've given anything to be able to experience it again while being able to look into Amy's wide, green eyes. A needy whimper escaped his vocalizer.

Before he could second guess what he was doing, he retracted the armor that covered his chest, revealing the smooth angles of his spark chamber. Lightly caressing his fingers over the surface sent a jolt straight down to his interface panel. He ignored it, however. It wasn't what he needed at the moment, not even close. With a shuddering ventilation, he also retracted the panels that hid away his spark, exposing the softly pulsating, blue orb of energy—his entire existence—to the cool ocean air. His head fell back into the sand and for a moment he simply let the wind wash over him, helping to cool his overheated frame before he lifted a trembling hand, bringing it his exposed essence.

"Primus," he groaned, his optics fluttering shut as his fingers carefully dipped inside, dragging them slowly through the swirling aura that radiated from his spark and stoking the pleasure that seemed to center there. "Ames," he breathlessly moaned, "sweetspark..."

It hadn't taken much to push himself over the precipice and afterwards, he'd lain in the sand staring up at the stars and simply marveling at the vastness of it all. His processor was abuzz with what had just happened and though physically sated for the moment, he ached to return home. He wanted nothing more that to curl up in the berth with Amy and Sunny and bask in the warmth of the afterglow together. He briefly entertained the notion of abandoning his duties and doing just that, but quickly dismissed the notion. He'd just barely skirted brig time and he wasn't about to put himself back in that position again. He resisted the urge to comm his brother, if only barely. It was enough that he'd allowed him to share this moment, he wouldn't impose on him any further. Knowing Amy and Sunny were together, home safe and sound, and waiting for his return had been enough to lull him into a contented doze.

" _Sideswipe!"_

He was jolted back into full wakefulness by a booming voice cracking over the comm. He checked his internal chronometer and grimaced, he'd been lazing on the beach for close to thirty minutes. He drew air deep into his vents, bracing for the worst, before opening the channel and uttering a casual, "Heya, Prowl."

" _You were supposed to report in twenty minutes ago,"_ the SIC used his no nonsense voice. " _What is your status and location?"_

"Yeah," Sides chuckled as he raised himself back up onto his wheels and began to slowly amble back towards the road on slightly wobbly legs, ignoring the sand that clung to his armor. "Sorry about that. I'm over on the south side. I thought I saw something suspicious...turns out it was just a bag of trash someone threw in the water. False alarm."

There was a long pause on the other end of the comm followed by a long-suffering sigh. " _Get back here and sign the log. Now."_

"I'm on my way," he promised, a secretive smile tugging at his mouth as he ran a gentle hand over his chest plates before folding himself back into his alt mode.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

The sound of a bass-heavy rock tune cut through the early morning quiet and shook Sideswipe out of his memories of the previous night. A relieved whoosh of air escaped his intakes as Bumblebee pulled up in front of him and quickly reverted to his bipedal mode. Eager though he was to put his duties behind him for the time being, he grinned easily at the younger mech, "Morning, Bee."

" _Yo, yo, yo_ ," the voice of an early morning DJ blasted out of the scout's speakers. " _What it is_?"

Sides shrugged, "Same old, same old. You know how patrol goes. Nothing new to pass on, just boring as the Pit, per usual."

Bumblebee was less than convinced given the mech's curiously upbeat demeanor so early in the morning. He gave him a quizzical look as if to ask what was really going on.

Again, Sides shrugged. "Just ready to go home and see the family, Bee. That's all."

Bee made an 'ah ha' sound and nodded in understanding. " _I get that_ ," a voice pronounced. " _I really do_."

Sideswipe clapped the mech on the shoulder as he prepared to go on his way, "Just make sure you sign Prowl's log on time...he gets testy if you don't. I'll catch you later."

Bee nodded, waving farewell as he returned to his alt mode to start his own shift.

Sides sighed and headed off in the direction of the rec/lounge area at a brisk pace. He knew his brother would be waiting there for him before getting a jump on his day. Yes, he wanted to go home to Amy, but the two of them had a couple things they needed desperately to discuss first.

"About slagging time," Sunstreaker greeted him as he entered the room, energon cube in hand and already outstretched. "Here."

"Thanks," Sideswipe threw his brother a grateful look, broke the seal on the cube and took a long swig of the viscous fluid within. He allowed a moment to enjoy the warmth of the concentrated liquid energy compound flooding his lines before focusing completely on his twin. "I really needed that."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker smirked knowingly. "I bet."

"Sorry about last night." One corner of Sides' mouth hitched up into a lopsided, apologetic grin, "I didn't want to intrude but it was kind of hard not to. It was...pretty intense."

Sunny nodded, a rather contemplative look on his face. "That's putting it mildly."

"So," he asked with a raised brow, "what happened?"

Sunny vented, "How much could you feel?"

Sideswipe drained the rest of his cube and sat it aside, "You were broadcasting pretty loud and clear, bro."

"I figured," Sunny nodded in understanding. "To be honest," he continued. "I'm not sure. She was fragging pissed and nothing I did seemed to help so," he smirked, "I tried a different approach. She forgave me and one thing led to another..."

"Uh huh," Sideswipe chuckled. "And her hands just sort of wandered up under your armor? Not that I'm complaining."

"I may have guided her a bit," Sunstreaker confessed. He shrugged, looking thoughtful, "What was I supposed to do? She was curious."

Sideswipe nodded, his processor already whirring with possibilities. "Curious is good. Curious is really good. We can work with curious."

"I'd say you did quite a bit of work on your own," Sunstreaker gave his brother a critical once over, taking in the sand that still clung to bits of his frame with a look of disdain. "Self-servicing on the beach? In the middle of patrol? Really? You could've kept that to yourself."

Unashamed, Sides shrugged. "Speaking of, it's not like you didn't spend a few extra breems alone in the wash racks this morning so consider us even." He gazed at his twin in amusement, "I'm guessing it must have been a rough night?"

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics but didn't refute his brother's accusation.

"What about her," Sideswipe asked, quickly changing the subject.

Sunny raised a brow plate, "What about her?"

"Did she, you know," Sides gestured. "Enjoy it?"

"She didn't overload, if that's what you're asking. At least I don't think she did." Sunstreaker frowned, "How are you even supposed to fragging know with a human? There's no feedback."

"Humans don't overload, Sunny," Sideswipe helpfully informed. "They orgasm. If you'd bothered to do any research..."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker interrupted, rolling his optics. "I've seen your 'research'...fragging pervert."

Sides chuckled, "It's called being prepared."

"Whatever," Sunny snorted. "Call it what you want. Aside from the basic mechanics, all that slag seems too put on to be real life. She didn't act anything like those femmes in the videos, thank Primus." He thought for a moment before adding, "But, yeah, all things considered, she seemed to be enjoying herself as far as I could tell. At least, she didn't complain."

"Did you...?" Sideswipe left the question open ended, knowing Sunny would understand.

On cue, Sunstreaker shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I wasn't sure how much she'd be comfortable with. I didn't want to push her or my luck. It was pretty tame, considering."

Sideswipe nodded in understanding. Sparkling steps. This was territory that was, as far as they knew, completely uncharted. Last night, however, had been too real to have been a fluke. It opened up possibilities that he'd previously believed impossible. At any rate, it was worth further exploration. "There's no rush, right? We can work our way up to it. We may not be able to spark bond with her but for the time being we can experiment a little with the imprinting now that we know we can kinda link up through it."

"Pump your brakes, bit brain." Sunny warned. "She's still a fragging human. That hasn't changed."

Sideswipe immediately frowned, "I thought you were passed that scrap, Sunny. I thought it didn't matter anymore."

"It matters," Sunstreaker grit. "It matters a whole fragging lot. She had her hands directly on my spark chamber." He admitted, "I thought I was going to overload. I didn't know what the energy discharge would do to her. I didn't want the evening to end with an electrocution."

Sideswipe vented, shaking his head. The plans he'd been formulating in his processor instantly evaporated. "I didn't think of that..."

"Figures," the yellow mech huffed. "I did some more reading while I was waiting for you," Sunny blurted. "About spark imprinting."

"Oh?" Sides perked back up, interest clearly written across his face as well as hope that his brother may have found some magical solution to their human-Cybertronian intimacy issues. "Learn anything helpful?"

"Helpful?" Sunny shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I think what we experienced is something called a conscious energy transference."

Sides brow plates furrowed, "What is that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Sunstreaker vented, "One spark is able to sync up with another if they're especially compatible in a way that allows a transfer of energy or consciousness between them without the benefit of an actual spark bond. It's exceedingly rare. There's only about thirty cases that have actually been verified in a medical environment."

"Thirty-one, now," Sideswipe added with a slow grin. "Lucky us. It kinda makes sense. I mean, you have to admit it, the three of us just kind of...click together. Like puzzle pieces, almost."

"Yeah," Sunny scoffed. "It makes perfect sense except for the little fact that the Squishie doesn't have anything even vaguely resembling a spark."

"I don't know," Sideswipe denied. "I felt her, Sunny. You felt her. You can't tell me you didn't. I was there...well, sort of. There has to be something we're missing here with this whole imprinting thing," he pressed. "There has to be."

Sunstreaker vented, "Maybe we should talk to Ratchet."

"What?" Sideswipe's optics widened. "Sunny, no! We can't!"

"Why not," the yellow twin demanded. "We don't have a fragging clue what something like this could do to her."

"He'll try to fix her," Sides stressed. "Do you want her fixed? I don't know about you but last night was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced with another person...and I wasn't even there! Do you want to lose that? I sure as the Pit don't!"

Sunny grimaced, "I don't want her hurt."

"Neither do I," Sideswipe assured. "Look," he started diplomatically, "let's just sit on this for now, alright? We'll keep a close optic on her and if we see anything, and I mean anything, out of the ordinary we go straight to Ratchet. We won't try it again until we know for absolute certain she's okay. That'll give us time to figure things out...maybe find a workaround. What do you think?"

Sunstreaker ran a hand down over his face, "I don't even know what I think anymore. My spark is telling me one thing and my processor is telling me something completely different. I don't even like humans but, damn me to the Pit, I fragging care about her." He shook his head. "We need to make this work."

"We will," Sideswipe promised his brother. "Whatever we have to do, we will. Just...let's hold off on dragging the Doc into this. Just for a while."

"This is a slagging mess," the yellow front liner groused.

"We'll straighten it out," Sides vowed. "It'll work out. I know it will."

"Yeah," Sunny tentatively agreed. "It fragging better."

There was a long moment of silence between the brothers before Sides spoke up once more, "Last night, I wanted to tell you that...I told her that I loved her."

Sunny's optics widened as his head swiveled back in his twin's direction. "You did what?"

Sideswipe vented softly, "I told her that I loved her. I just," he shrugged, "I couldn't keep it to myself anymore."

"Okay..." Sunstreaker pressed, "And what did she say?"

A dreamy look settled over the silver mech's features, "She said that she loved me, too."

"Frag me..." Sunny looked as though he couldn't believe it. "Seriously?"

"I swear," Sides assured with a grin. "I couldn't believe it, either...but she does."

"Well, that's..." a myriad of emotions played over Sunny's face plates before settling on a look of feigned disinterest. "That's great. I'm happy for you."

"Us, Sunny," Sideswipe corrected. "Be happy for us. This is huge! You need to talk to her," he encouraged. "Tell her how you feel. You won't believe how liberating it feels to get it off your chest plates."

Sunstreaker shook his head, "I can't."

Sides demanded, "Why the Pit not?"

Sunny frowned, "I don't do...that."

Sideswipe raised a brow, "You don't do what?"

"Talk about feelings..." Sunstreaker squirmed uncomfortably. There was more to it than that, but it's all Sunny felt comfortable revealing, even to his own twin.

"Bro," Sides shook his head. "This isn't some random femme you bring home for a night or two and never see again. This is Ames we're talking about. This is the real deal."

"I know," Sunny agreed in a low tone. Therein lay the problem. He may have been the dominant twin on the battlefield but there were other, one could even argue more important, areas in which his brother far outshined him in terms of bravery. This was one of them. He couldn't take the risk. He shook his head once more, "I just can't."

"Sunny..." Sides started to argue.

"Drop it," Sunstreaker ordered in a irritated tone, obviously losing what little patience he had.

"Fine," Sideswipe reluctantly agreed, knowing that he'd pushed too far. "Just...think about it, alright?"

A noncommittal grunt was the response.

"Alright, well..." Sides stretched, causing the struts in his back to pop. "I'm slagged. Gonna go try to catch a couple hours of recharge. You heading out?"

"Yeah," Sunny quietly confirmed. "I want to get some painting in before lunch."

Sides nodded, "We'll talk later?"

Sunstreaker hummed in agreement. As his twin turned to leave, he called after him, "Hey...she's still sleeping so keep it down!"

"I'll be quiet," Sides promised.

"And hose yourself off first, fragger!" Sunny threatened, "If I find any sand in that berth..."

"Yeah, yeah..." Sideswipe flashed his brother a mischievous grin before folding back down into his alt mode and taking off toward home.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Amy woke slowly. She felt extremely well rested and relaxed. It really was amazing the difference sharing a berth with the twins versus struggling all night in her own bed back in the barracks had made. Like night and day. Her eyes fluttered open and she attempted to stretch, only to find her movement restricted by the large, metal body that all but encapsulated her much smaller, softer one. Rather than being irritated with her confinement, a relieved smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Sideswipe had returned and was again cuddling her as though she were some kind of giant stuffed animal that he needed to sleep. She relaxed in his hold, enjoying the warmth and subtle vibration his spark produced.

As she yawned she allowed her gaze to wander and noted, somewhat disappointedly, that Sunstreaker's side of the berth was now empty. Despite that, however, a fond smile lifted the corners of her mouth upon noticing that a styrofoam container that had been left in his stead. An early riser, indeed. Unbidden, her memory slipped back to the night before.

It had been a completely transformative experience. There was no way she'd ever be able to look at the yellow front liner the same after what they'd inexplicably shared with one another. It had been strange and mystifying...almost spiritual in its scope and intensity. She still wasn't entirely clear on what had transpired between them and Sunstreaker had seemed just as awed and amazed by the experience as she had been. He hadn't had an explanation for what had happened but, honestly, at this point she really hadn't expected one. She wasn't really even sure that she needed one anymore. Her life had become so surreal that a simple, scientific explanation couldn't possibly do it justice.

Even now, she could still feel the remnants of what they'd done masquerading as a subtle tingling lingering in the very tips of her fingers. She raised her left hand to her face to study it closer. It wasn't painful by any stretch and her hand looked no different than it always did. She had felt him, though. She'd felt him feel her. They had essentially merged together in a swirl of thought, impression, and emotion that had left her absolutely mesmerized. He'd filled voids inside of her that she hadn't even known she'd had and when they'd parted back into themselves she'd felt bereft.

"Stop, bright spark," he'd panted into her ear. "We have to stop."

He'd pulled away from her suddenly, her hands slipping from beneath his chest plates as he moved to perch on the edge of the berth, hunched over with his back to her and his hands planted firmly on his knees. He'd drawn slow, deep inhalations even as tiny shivers moved through his frame. She'd been left where she lay, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, trembling hands, and an unfamiliar knot of tension and heat coiled low in her belly. It had taken her a moment to get a handle on her own body before she was able to push herself back up into a seated position and adjust her twisted clothing back into a presentable state.

She'd asked tentatively, her voice soft in the dark room, "Are you okay? Did...did I do something wrong?"

"No," he'd quickly assured. "Just...frag...," he'd cursed and his hands moved to the edge of the berth in a crushing grip. "I'm fine. Just give me a minute..."

"Yeah," she'd quietly agreed, settling back to wait him out and completely confused as to what had just occurred between them. "Sure."

About a minute had ticked by in heavy silence before the mech finally straightened and turned to look back at her, tension now replaced with concern, "Are you alright?"

Self-consciousness and embarrassment had begun creeping in, displacing her formerly bold demeanor. She'd felt heat fill her face and couldn't even bring herself to look him in the optic. She swallowed hard an nodded her head.

"Hey," he'd hooked a finger beneath her chin, turning her face to look at him. He'd studied her with a serious expression and asked again, "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," she'd stammered. "I'm okay..."

He'd vented heavily and settled back down into the berth, opening his arms in invitation, "Get over here, Squishie."

She'd hesitated only a second before crawling over and fitting herself snuggly into his left side. She hadn't protested when he'd pulled her blankets back up over her body, tucking them in around her. They'd settled into a comfortable silence, the only noise the slight _tick, tick, tick_ of what sounded to her to be cooling metal. He'd seemed deep in thought and it took Amy a moment to find her voice, as well.

Once she'd gotten her wits back, she'd asked, "What just happened?"

He'd shaken his head, his voice a quiet rumble in the dark as he answered honestly, "I don't know. I've never experienced anything like that before." He lifted his head slightly to look at her, "You?"

"No," Amy shook her head vehemently in denial. She nibbled her bottom lip, this time raising her head to look at him. "What did you mean by that when you said it was us that we were feeling?"

"I'm not sure," he cautiously ventured, "but I think somehow we...merged."

A look of confusion settled over Amy's features, "Merged?"

"Like I said," he shrugged, "I don't know. You're human. That shouldn't even be possible. But..." he admitted, "Its the only explanation I can come up with right now."

"I don't understand...how-" Amy began but was interrupted by the mech shifting onto his side to face her.

Sunstreaker slid down the berth until they were eye to optic and pressed his forehead against her's. "I don't have answers for you...not tonight. Let's sleep on it, alright? It's been a long day. We'll figure it out tomorrow."

Reluctantly, she'd nodded. She felt somewhat placated knowing that at least they were on the same page. Neither of them had a clue.

There'd not been much conversation after that. Each had seemed to be content to engage in their own quiet contemplations as they waited for sleep/recharge to claim them. Idly, her fingers brushed back and forth over a seam she'd found that ran down the side of his torso. He'd hummed appreciatively at the gesture while his own thumb carefully kneaded the base of her spine, loosening tension she'd not even know she'd had. Before she'd even realized it, she'd been fast asleep.

Sighing, Amy carefully maneuvered herself within Sideswipe's arms, turning so that she could face him. She studied his features, committing each beloved joint and seam to heart. It was crazy, she mused, how it was possible to care so much about another person—especially one who wasn't even the same species. Completely relaxed in recharge, he seemed a far cry from the deadly Autobot warrior he and his brother were purported to be. Despite knowing that he was many lifetimes her senior, he seemed young and innocent. There was a vulnerability about him like this that she was certain few had ever gotten to see and knowing that made her heart constrict in such a way that she couldn't help but stretch forward and press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Sideswipe stirred at the contact, a contented sound escaping his vents as he mumbled, "Morning, sweetspark..."

Amy, knowing he'd been up all night, immediately felt guilty. "Sorry," she softly apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Not sorry," the mech murmured sleepily, nuzzling his face into her hair. "I love this...I love you. C'mere..."

Amy felt a warmth move through her and cuddled in closer to his chest, allowing him to situate her how he wanted her before responding with a heartfelt, "I love you, too."

Sides vented happily, "Never gonna get tired of hearing that..."

He became quiet and still once more, leading Amy to believe that he'd drifted off again. Closing her eyes, she decided to follow suit. Her muscles relaxed and her breathing deepened. Cocooned in warmth and feeling safe and secure, she could feel the first vestiges of sleep beginning to reclaim her when Sideswipe's voice suddenly jolted her back into wakefulness.

"Last night with Sunny...that was pretty incredible."

"What?" Amy pulled back to look at him to find that his optics were still closed. She felt guilty now for an entirely different reason now.

A smile tugged at Sides' lip plates, "I wasn't sure if something like that was even possible between us...but apparently it is."

Amy stiffened, "He...he told you about that?"

Sideswipe shook his head, finally opening his optics to look at the woman. "He didn't have to," he explained a soft smile on his face. "I could feel it in my spark."

Amy went wide eyed, her face flooding with heat, "You could feel all of that?"

"Well, yeah." Sides chuckled, "We are twins, you know."

A horrifying thought came to her, "Can you, like, read each other's minds or something?"

"No," he grinned at her, amusement shining brightly in his optics as he smoothed a hand over her hair. "We're not psychic, sweetspark. It's just a twin thing. Being split-sparked, sometimes emotions and physical sensations can bleed over if they're particularly intense. For the most part, we're pretty good at regulating stuff like that between us. We have to be," he added. "Especially out in the field where one of us getting hurt could endanger the other. Last night was...an extraordinary circumstance. It couldn't be helped. I've never experienced anything like it."

"I'm sorry." The words were out of her mouth before she was really even sure what she was apologizing for. All she knew was that she had no idea how this sort of an arrangement was supposed to work. The previous evening Sideswipe had basically poured his spark out to her and she'd turned right around after he'd left and had more or less groped his brother. Sure, she'd kissed them both and neither seemed to mind having to share her, for lack of better terminology, with the other. The intimacy she and Sunstreaker had shared, however, had gone far beyond a simple kiss and, to her at least, it almost felt like a betrayal. The fact that Sideswipe seemed so relaxed about the entire situation, happy even, threw her off as it was so completely outside of any acceptable social construct she'd ever been a part of.

Sideswipe's expression morphed into one of confusion, "What could you possibly have to feel sorry about, sweetspark?"

"That...with Sunstreaker..." she wasn't even sure what to call what had happened. "You weren't here and I just..."

It took him a minute to realize what she was getting at. When it did click, it only reaffirmed to him just how hopelessly in love with her he really was. Of all the things she could be worrying about given recent events—her health and well-being being number one—she chose to fret over him feeling left out. Ridiculous, really, as it couldn't have been further from the truth. "Ames, sweetspark, it's okay...there's nothing to apologize for."

Amy's brow furrowed, "But..."

"No buts," Sideswipe soothed. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. There's absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying Sunny's company when you're alone together." He nuzzled her, "Just like I'm enjoying your company right now. In fact," he pulled back slightly to give her a lopsided grin, "I'd be worried if you didn't."

Amy worried her bottom lip between her teeth, reluctantly admitting, "This whole concept is...kinda weird for me."

Sideswipe nodded in understanding. "We know this isn't exactly a 'traditional' relationship by human norms but it's pretty standard operating procedure for us. Believe it or not," he shared, "it's easy to forget that you're not Cybertronian sometimes and that what's normal to us may seem, well...alien to you. It's an adjustment. It just takes some getting used to. That's all."

Amy nodded even though a feeling of guilt still prickled her nerves. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"Ames," Sides tucked his thumb beneath her chin to tip her face up toward him. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with what you and Sunny did with one another. Whether you're with him, or me, or we're all together, we want you to feel comfortable enough to express yourself. Showing affection to the people you care about is a perfectly natural thing and if you want to get cozy with one of us while the other isn't around, you're not going to hurt anyone's feelings. I can promise you that."

"So," Amy relaxed slightly as the mech's message began to sink in. "It doesn't bother you that you weren't here?"

"Of course not," he assured, squeezing her gently. "I'm glad you and Sunny had some time alone together to sort things out. Having some private one on one time with each other is just important as having time where we can all be together. We're twins, but that doesn't mean we each don't enjoy being the center of your attention once in a while. Sometimes it's nice not having to share." He grinned at her, "Speaking of which, how can I possibly be bothered when I have you all to myself for the rest of the morning?"

Amy let out a yelp of surprise as the mech rolled suddenly, shifting onto his back and bringing her right along with him. She found herself perched atop him, his hands at her hips gently holding her in place. A healthy blush colored her face, "Sideswipe..."

"Ames..." He grinned mischievously up at the woman who now sat sprawled over his chest plates. "I have an idea...I know Sunny showed you some of our sensitive areas last night so it's only right that we learn about your's, too, for the sake of fairness," he winked at her. "What do you say, sweetspark? Want to show me what feels good?"

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

 **OMG. So...question time again, friends. How graphic is too graphic, if ya know what I mean? Do you want to "see" everything or do you like to let your imagination fill in the blanks? I'm trying to be kinda vague while still giving a pretty clear picture of what's transpiring. As of this chapter, this story is rated T but it may have to be bumped up to M if we continue down this path. This poor trio is so repressed, they were bound to get touchy-feely sooner or later. I kinda feel like they need to blow off some steam, ya know? Ugh. Decisions, decisions.**


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